The Howling Dark
by smart grid
Summary: Two years have passed since the dark day that humanity's best was extinguished. Now it appears that the dead Shepard is not so dead, and that the enemies Jorge helped defeat, are not so defeated. Shepard is going to need humanity's best to take on the genocidal threat of the Collectors. Fortunately for her, Jorge has volunteered to help.
1. Prologue

_July 27, 2184CE_

There was a padd waiting for him on his bunk.

N school had been a breeze, even if he had been older than most of the instructors. As an N5, in 'training' to be an N6, he was now being deployed in various real combat situations. Batarian pirates, specifically. With new, human colonies going up in the Terminus systems, colonies not under the aegis of the Systems Alliance, slaver raids were up, colonies going dark with no trace of their colonists to be found. Still, even if these colonies had renounced their Alliance ties, the Alliance had no intention of simply abandoning them. Running black ops against Batarian pirates, mercenaries, and occasionally undercover Batarian military was one of the campaigns being run to try to take some of the pressure off of the colonies. Something that could disrupt their plans, prevent the colony disappearances that were starting to happening.

The most recent mission, from which he was coming back, had successfully cleaned out a raider's base of operations and destroyed a small time slaver ring. A good mission. Open and shut. He'd already been debriefed, he was headed back to Earth for R&R (a new and novel concept, that) prior to prep for the next mission.

Which brought him to the padd waiting on his bunk.

Frowning, Jorge stooped and picked up the padd, activating it with a brush of a thumb. The black screen flared to life with a loading logo for a second before a video came onto the screen.

The screen remained dark around the edges, but in the center of the screen a giant sun backlit a single seated man. He looked to be older than Jorge, with styled back brown hair just starting to grey at the temples, but he was nontheless well preserved for what Jorge guessed his age was. Seated with one leg crossed over the other, he was well dressed, composed, and relaxed. A lit cigarette rested idly in his right hand, which he flicked once before he spoke.

"Lieutenant Junior Grade Jorge Kadar," he began. "I am sorry this conversation took so long to get to this point. I normally do not contact candidates personally, but for you and a few others, a more personal touch is required."

Candidates?

"I am the Illusive Man..."

Jorge's hand tightened on the pad. He could hear it groan under his fingers.

"... leader of Cerberus. And while I know you may have objections to me and my organization, I implore you to hear me out."

Jorge's thoughts raced as the man on screen paused to take a drag on his cigarette. He should immediately turn this over to Alliance Intelligence. As a part of Shepard's crew he'd encountered several operations that had resulted in dead colonists, or dead soldiers, or both that had been traced back to the shadowy organization. But, the dog was many headed; and like the hydra of legend, cut off one head, and two more take its place. He'd help shut down a Cerberus research site not a month ago, with every indication that it was not alone.

And now he had a video from the leader of the organization itself?

A moment's thought more and he decided to let the video finish before turning it over to Alliance Intelligence.

"I'm glad you've decided to hear me out," the Man said, letting out a puff of smoke. His left hand came up, engaging a haptic, and the lower half of the screen became a separate video.

"I'm sure you recognize this footage," the Man continued. "First responder helmet camera footage of the Terminus colony Independence."

Jorge knew it well. He had been one of those first responders.

"Officially, the disappearance of the colony was blamed on slavers, and the matter closed. I don't believe that and neither do you. The abduction was too quick, too neat. There are no signs of battle, there were no survivors or people who managed to hide away. All video footage during the incident was corrupted, even the off-site backups, even personal recording devices. This was no slaver raid."

Jorge nodded absentmindedly. He'd expressed similar concerns in his report on the matter.

"And this is not the only one," as another haptic was brushed. A second and third window popped up on the lower half of the padd, showing two different colonies in identical states.

"Sanctuary Point. Stavros. Both show the same pattern. Both attributed to piracy or slavers, for lack of other evidence."

Another puff on the cigarette.

"When the Council brushed off claims that Sovereign was a heretofore unknown genocidal intelligence known as a Reaper, that was the end of the matter officially. Even Councillor Anderson's vehement dissention of the proclamation did not change perceptions. But we both know that what they cannot accept is true. The Reapers are out there. Waiting. There is no hard evidence yet, but I fear that these disappearances are their doing, the start of their next attempt to start the cull of humanity and the galaxy."

Jorge frowned. It wasn't something he had considered, but now that he thought about it, it was a possibility. Sovereign had gone down with a helluva fight, and had utilized proxies prior to its final confrontation to carry out its will. Perhaps there were still some servants left? Or perhaps there was another Reaper out there, in the shadows, pulling the strings this time?

Or perhaps this was all a wild goose chase. And what did any of this have to do with him? Why was he a candidate?

"Humanity can't hope to stand against this if I am right. We need a leader. We need a hero."

So you want me to join Cerberus and be that hero, eh?

"We need Shepard."

Jorge blinked. A flicker of a smile came on the face, though it was expertly disguised in an instant as a puff on the cigarette. Suspicions began forming in his mind, even as he shook his head and spoke for the first time.

"Shepard is KIA," he said, mostly for himself.

"Shepard may be KIA," the Man continued fluidly, as though the recording had read his mind. "But you of all people should know that KIA does not necessarily mean they have been confirmed as killed. The Alliance never found a body because Cerberus worked and sacrificed to prevent it from falling into the wrong hands. And when we obtained her body, we set to work immediately on resuscitating humanity's hero."

A touch, and a screen popped up again. Vital signs. A heartbeat. A continuous medical scan, showing a human with numerous broken bones and several implants.

No, that was impossible…

"Shepard lives, or at least she will when Cerberus completes its work. And when she takes that first step off the operating table, she will need guidance. She will need purpose. But most of all, she will need loyal friends by her side. I have no doubt that she will not trust Cerberus, even if we are right. Even if we are the only ones who believe her and are willing to help her. That is why we need you, Jorge. I need people on her team that she can trust implicitly, unaffiliated with Cerberus or our cause, so that she will be fully focused upon the threat at hand rather than wondering whether I am going to stab her in the back. You, Jorge. She will need you."

The Man's head tilted back, another puff of the cigarette.

"I have no intention of trying to coerce you. I am merely asking for your help. Cerberus, Humanity… Commander Shepard, all need your strength, Jorge. If you accept, simply tender your resignation with the Alliance, and travel to the Citadel. My agents will make all the necessary arrangements to bring you in from there. From there, you will be put to work; there is much that can be done in preparation prior to Shepard's revival."

His speech over, Jorge was free to think. It was a compelling story, and he had no doubt that Cerberus had crafted this narrative specifically for him- hell, he had seen the Illusive Man! Alliance Intelligence would kill for something as simple as a black and white photo and he had a whole video! A sobering thought. In the end, it all came down to one question.

Was he willing to join a terrorist organization for Commander Shepard?

And as he asked himself that, he knew his answer. Cerberus was not the Office of Naval Intelligence. They were not subject to the rules of the Alliance, of humanity. They were an organization apart, and though they claimed to work in humanity's best interest they did not answer to humanity.

And who was to say the body they had in their possession was Shepard? Was that heartbeat, those biosigns, hers, or some poor fool, or even simply made up for show? And what would he be doing in the meantime? How would he know if Shepard woke up, or would they simply keep him away on missions, doing Cerberus dirty work on vague promises of resurrecting Shepard?

"No," Jorge said, shaking his head as he looked up. "No."

"Unfortunate," came the Illusive Man's voice from the padd.

Mi a fene?!

"Is that your final answer?" the figure of the Illusive Man stood. It wasn't a recording, it was a live feed all along! How the…?

"Yes. I do not believe you," Jorge replied. His poker face was on, but 'flustered' did not begin to describe his internal emotions.

"Shame," the Illusive Man replied. "Still, my offer stands. Tender your resignation if you agree, and we will take care of the rest."

The feed cut out.

Jorge stared, dumbfounded, at the once again blank padd. After a few moments, he regained his wits enough to set it down and call up his omni tool, searching for contact information for Alliance Intel-

The padd burst into flames on his bed. Jorge swore in hungarian as he quickly used his sheets to put it out. He was still batting at it when his omni chimed, indicating an open line to his AI contact.

Jorge sighed.

-[]-

Apologies everyone, I'm not sure what happened the first time I posted this.


	2. Q&A

IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE STORY YET, SKIP THIS CHAPTER AND COME BACK TO IT!

Well ladies and gentlemen, I have taken some time off, written some other things, experienced a little more life and now I am back! Here we will see Jorge, now established in the Mass Effect Universe for two years, take significant part in the events of Mass Effect 2 as a part of Shepard's team. Shepard is going to need the best in her efforts to save the galaxy; fortunately, Jorge is more than willing to step up to the plate.

Now, for those of you new to this story, welcome! For those old hands who followed me, update after update, through the events of Mass Effect 1, welcome back! Just like before, I post this story with full intent to see it through to the end. Come hell or high water. Unfortunately, this does not necessarily mean 'timely'. I am working around things known as 'life'. Updates will likely be measured in terms of weeks; sometimes, months. This is currently my only writing priority, but that does not mean it will get done fast. But again; I intend to see this project through to the end, no matter how painful. What I start, I fully work to finish.

As I see questions in the comments or PMs that I feel need answering, I'll update this chapter and tell you when I update it.

**Update! NOW!**

Yea, yea, I'm workin' on it, I'm workin' on it.

**Will EDI interface with Jorge's armor? That would be badass!**

A good idea. That said, that's a pretty deep ask there- his armor is his home, adding an AI would be inviting someone into his home. You don't want to do that to a known terrorist. And as nice as EDI is, Cerberus holds the reins… for now.

**Why does Jorge have the Mjolnir? If it's half as precious as Chapter 1 describes, why let it out and potentially into the hands of a terrorist organization?**

Well, there's a couple of things to unpack here. First, yes, it's a very valuable piece of technology, but it's still a piece of armor; it's meant to be worn. Jorge is also the only person who can wear it, so it's not like they can keep it and have someone else do field testing. Second, yes, they learn something new every time, but there's so much they've already learned over the course of two years that the R&D budget is having trouble funding the sheer number of projects that keep coming out of it; the ideas and technology they have extracted will already keep them busy for years if not decades. Third, there's some politicking and backroom deals going on here. Hackett and Anderson are pulling strings in Shepard's name to make sure that Jorge is fully outfitted and capable; nothing less than the best will do, that's why Jorge is there in the first place.

So, I imagine it's a combination of those three as to why Jorge is being allowed to take his armor on his 'vacation'.

**Where is Zaeed? Will Kasumi be appearing in here? What about other DLC (Overlord, Arrival, Shadow Broker…?)**

Given that Jorge has jacked his spot, it is safe for everyone to assume that Zaeed isn't going to be appearing in this story. So, sorry, Zaeed fans. Kasumi, I am sorry to say, is in a similar situation; I never downloaded her so I don't feel that I have a good enough grasp of her character to write her. As for the other DLC missions, well… I haven't decided how I want to handle content AFTER the suicide mission has been completed yet. It's possible Jorge will go on them, it's also possible that Jorge is back at the Alliance again and misses out. I haven't decided yet.

UPDATE: Yes, I know I could watch replays and videos to try to get a feel for Kasumi, but I don't feel comfortable writing for her that way. I played ME2 many, many times, and I feel I have at least a moderate understanding of the majority of the characters because of that repetition; Kasumi, not so much. I feel I cannot write her acceptably, and because of that I have no intention of having Kasumi appear. Sorry :(

**Will we see more people from the Halo universe? Master Chief and Cortana could be blown there, Spirit of Fire maybe, Admiral Cole...?**

Nope. If they did indeed get blown to another universe like Jorge happened to in The Fighting Spirit, they got blown to a different universe. There are infinite possibilities out there, after all. Anyways, this story's here for Jorge, not for additional crossover into the ME universe. We're exploring Jorge as if he were dropped into the ME universe.


	3. Chapter 1: Revenant

_March 1, 2185CE_

"You've seen the extranet footage of course."

"Yes sir."

The Citadel. Councilor Anderson's office. With Humanity now ascendent, a prize bought with blood and sacrifice against the rogue Spectre Saren, the Council had recognized them as a galactic power and had granted Humanity a seat. A seat heavily influenced by Shepard; her meeting with the Council years ago to express their gratitude had ended in her nomination of Anderson for Councilor, a nomination that had been accepted by the rest of the Alliance and had become fact.

"What about the STG footage?"

"Reviewed it last night."

For two years now Anderson had muddled his way through galactic politics, doing an admirable job in Jorge's opinion. It was a thankless task, dealing with politicians day in and day out. Jorge was more than happy to leave it to him. Unfortunately though, sometimes he got dragged into the mess. Anderson was both familiar with his classified background and had commanded him, for however briefly. That meant that, because humanity had yet to find another SPECTRE candidate (or perhaps the Council was stalling on that front. It was far above his pay grade either way), when a dirty operation requiring humanity's best came up, Jorge was the man Anderson requested.

Like now.

"And your opinion?"

Shepard was back. Maybe. Hopefully. The news that Shepard had been sighted had sent a shockwave through Alliance Command, and through the Council as well. She had, after all, been thought to have gone down with the _Normandy_. She hadn't made it to the escape pod, her last transmission had had her venting air at a rapid pace, and her projected trajectory took her into re-entry onto the planet below in nothing more than her combat hardsuit. One that, unlike his Mjolnir, was not even remotely designed for such conditions. Her body hadn't been recovered, and she had been assumed KIA.

Now she was back, walking, talking, and kicking ass in the lawless Terminus Systems. There were, unfortunately, a few problems with this.

First, she was officially KIA. It was not common to come back from the dead. Jorge was less troubled by this than some other people; he had seen other friends come 'back from the dead' before. Spartans had a habit of overcoming the odds even when they were thought missing or dead. That Shepard had done it… well, it was still unusual even by his standards, but not unbelievable.

As for the second, well…

Jorge sighed.

"It seems like her, Counselor," he stated. "The way she walks. Her stance. The way she talks. But…"

"The biotics."

There it was. The elephant in the room. Shepard had been a career soldier, utilizing weapons to their greatest potential; she had neither been a biotic, nor had she been overly skilled with an omni tool. The footage from Omega, however, revealed that Shepard, or whoever it was, had picked up something new. Biotics, specifically. The footage from the STG had included combat footage obtained from hacked cameras, and it showed multiple instances of Shepard using biotic abilities to great effect. Including a type of biotic charge that was absolutely murderous when followed up with a shotgun blast, as she appeared to have taken to doing. The Alliance had classified her as a 'Soldier'; now, her classification would be 'Vanguard'.

"And Cerberus," Jorge added.

The third issue, and Jorge's biggest concern, bigger than her newfound biotics even. Her companions cemented the intel Jorge had acquired a year earlier, that Cerberus was behind the resurrection. The first was a woman, Miranda Lawson, a known operative, a clear Cerberus logo visible on her skin tight- well, Jorge was very hesitant to call such a lack of protection an armored suit, but apparently it was for her. The second was a man with dark skin; Jacob Taylor, formerly of the Alliance Corsairs, known to have joined Cerberus sometime after Shepard's death. He too wore a Cerberus logo on his skin tight armored suit, his biotics used as his primary means of defense.

"You've seen the reports," Jorge continued. "Cerberus front companies have made big progress over the last decade in implants, and what STG intel we have access to says Cerberus is keeping the best advances to themselves. Last report was they had successfully used brain implants to control the actions of mice, and that was a year ago. We can't risk Shepard being controlled by that organization. Or, they've also made great strides in clones…"

"Yes," Anderson nodded. "I've seen all the concerns. But I'm not asking for what others think, I'm asking what you think. Do you believe that is Commander Shepard?"

Jorge contemplated that question for several long seconds.

"I believe," he said slowly, contemplatively. "No. I _want_ to believe that it is her. But I cannot be sure."

It was Anderson's turn to sigh. And nod. Contemplative silence lasted for nearly a minute.

"I appreciate you giving her a chance to prove herself," Anderson finally broke the silence. He paced back around his desk, hands behind his back. "Half the Alliance brass thinks she's a Cerberus trick or ruse to lend legitimacy to their organization. Most of the intelligence branches of the other races have said as much as well. But I mentored Shepard; I know her. And I see my former student in every one of these videos. Despite the biotics, despite the Cerberus backers, I believe she's the real deal. Our Shepard, back from the dead."

He stopped his pacing, looking up at Jorge.

"It's going to be up to you to prove it, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir."

The briefing from Admiral Hackett had happened before Jorge had even stepped onto the Citadel. Mindful of the earlier recruitment attempt by Cerberus, Jorge was being offered up as an Alliance inside man to join her squad. It would be his job to once again be a part of Shepard's squad, under her command; and would be his job to report back to the Alliance on the legitimacy of Shepard's resurrection.

Well, that and assisting in the suicide mission against the Collectors, of course. Missions described as 'suicide' demanded the best, and for the Alliance, that meant him. He was perhaps one of the only ones who both knew Shepard and had a good chance of returning alive from a 'suicide' mission. Even if Shepard wasn't really Shepard, so long as colonies stopped disappearing, the Alliance would count it as a net win.

And so it was that Cerberus would be getting their hands on him after all.

"I set up a meeting with Shepard at 1500 hours. The Council wants to see her too, though they refuse to meet in person," Anderson told him.

It was a smart move for them. They got political deniability if it went sideways, and Anderson himself was taking a large risk meeting Shepard in person, given that she was working with a known human supremacist terrorist group. If she wasn't what Anderson believed, what he wanted to believe, she could do a lot of damage even just with Anderson in the room.

"I'll ping your omni tool once we're done talking with the Council," Anderson continued. "After that, we'll introduce you and your mission, and hope that she takes our offer."

Jorge nodded. Anderson dismissed him with a nod of his own before turning to his desk.

-[]-

With half an hour to burn, Jorge stepped towards the nearest observation window, ignored the annoying advertisements that had become an unfortunate part of scenery on the Citadel ("Greetings, Kadar! Are you satisfied with your hair? Do you look in the mirror and stress over those grey and white hairs you see? Well, worry no more! Speak to this advertisement to get a fifty percent discount on Just for Men (™) hair products that will make those grey hairs a thing of the past!"), put some smooth jazz on through an omni flash-set of earbuds, and settled down to both observe the view of the station interior and contemplate.

He was going into the lion's den. They'd shut down several Cerberus operations during his first stint with Shepard, and that had only been the tip of the iceberg. For every operation shut down, every Cerberus facility the Alliance Special Forces, or Turian Blackwatch, or even the Spectres, shut down, two more took its place. Cloning, AI research, hormone control, cybernetics, gene enhancements…the list went on. Jorge had been on a few himself. He had no doubt he hadn't endeared himself to Cerberus during that time.

But, there was a trump card they had with this effort. Cerberus had tried to recruit Jorge before. Even if he was a known spy for the Alliance, his combat effectiveness had only increased in this universe, as he adapted to the weaponry and practices and tactics. If Shepard was going on a suicide mission, as was rumored, they would need the best, and there was no doubt that he was the best Alliance soldier in this universe.

Jorge let his mind drift over the mission brief and the view out the observation windows, ignoring the humans and aliens milling about around him, until his music was interrupted by a buzz.

Time to meet the revenant.

He was only a minute or so of walk away, so it was no time at all before the door to Anderson's office opened, revealing humanity's councillor and the alleged dead Alliance N7 SPECTRE, Shepard.

Both turned to look at him, and Jorge saw a momentary surprise on Shepard's face, one that quickly turned to a smile that reached her eyes. Jorge let himself give a faint grin back. He wasn't lying when he had told Anderson he believed that this was Shepard, and for now, he intended to give her the benefit of the doubt. And truly, it was good to see her again, as one of the finest commanders he had ever served under, a woman who had earned his respect.

"The Alliance has one more gift for you, if you accept it," Anderson said, his own eyes sparkling as Jorge approached. "We heard you think this is a suicide mission. That you intend to take on the Collectors. We also heard you were recruiting. Jorge practically couldn't volunteer fast enough to be the man the Alliance sends with you."

Shepard appeared overwhelmed and grateful for a second, before a suspicious look came over her.

"I thought you said the Alliance and the Council couldn't officially condone my association with Cerberus," Shepard replied, brows knit.

"And we still officially can't. One reason why Jorge had to volunteer. And why he's officially being placed on leave for the duration. But there's more to it. I won't lie to you Shepard; Jorge, if you choose to take him onto your crew, would function as an assessor. It would be his job to report back to the Alliance on your physical and mental condition, and assess whether or not you are the 'real' Commander Shepard."

There was bitter understanding in Shepard's face at that.

"Heaven forbid they take anything I say at face value," she muttered. "Reapers, Vigil, that I really am Commander Shepard… I could tell them and the Council what they're having for dinner, _as they're having it_, and they _still_ wouldn't believe me."

Jorge grunted, but also frowned. He could not recall Shepard being quite so jaded in her views. Or at least not expressing it.

Hmm.

"We believe you, Shepard," Anderson was quick to say. "But with your new biotics, and the injuries that you were supposed to have suffered re-entering Alchera in nothing more than an airless combat hard suit, not everyone is so willing to believe. This is an opportunity for you to prove to the Alliance, and the Council, that you are indeed alive again, and that you can be trusted."

Shepard hesitated a moment, mulling things over no doubt. Then she held out a hand to Jorge. A hand he quickly took.

"Welcome back to the _Normandy_, Jorge," she said.

"Good to be back on the team, Commander," he said. "I'll get my armor and everything else I need and meet you on the ship."

-[]-

It took an hour and a half to get everything ready. Unlike last time, there was no Alliance-issue combat suit; there was, and would only be, Mjolnir. It had taken some interesting bureaucratic legalese and a sign off from Hackett in order for him to wear his own armor while 'officially' on holiday. He had also 'borrowed' his M26 modified HMG that he had taken on missions the last few months, again allowed officially only due to bureaucratic obfuscation, trickery, and some very high level names.

He was also wearing it. Mjolnir, despite two years of wear and tear and study, was still a scientific prize beyond imagination. The technologies it offered gave the Alliance hope for high power portable fusion reactors, true energy shielding, advanced ablatives and heat distributing materials, and synthetic nanoweave suits capable of enhancing strength far beyond what was possible today, to name a few. Every time his armor was taken apart for study, something new was learned from it. Oh, progress was slow, to be sure; his fusion reactor, for example, had sparked a new miniaturization craze among power source technologies, but after two years they were still only accomplishing prototype projects twice the size of a room with the amount of power his armor could provide. But every time his armor went in, he saw their progress, the progress made possible by his armor, getting closer.

And now he was taking that great scientific fruit and literally walking into the company of a terrorist group. He had no illusions that there were people that would kill to study his armor, and that this particular group may well be the top of the list. He had no intention of letting them take it from him. And the best way to ensure they didn't get the chance was to wear it.

It was going to be a long mission.

So it was that he arrived at the berth of the new _Normandy_, a crate of necessary armor repair tools dangling from one arm, machine gun mag locked to his back, and his helmet under the other.

It was beautiful, he decided. It had all the graceful lines of the first, despite being double or maybe even triple the size of the original _Normandy_. A dart in space, as opposed to the blocky gun-like ships of the UNSC. Grace versus strength, elegance versus practicality.

Shame they had to marr the side with the Cerberus symbol.

The airlock opened as he approached, revealing a chocolate skinned man in a Cerberus skin-tight combat suit. Jacob Taylor.

"Lieutenant Kadar, welcome to the _Normandy_. Shepard arrived a few minutes ago, once you're on board we'll get under way."

Jorge grunted and entered the airlock with the man. Immediately he noticed differences between this ship and its predecessor; he didn't have to duck getting through the outer doorway. The decontamination cycle also didn't run, so as soon as the outer door closed, the inner door opened.

"Shepard wanted to see you in the comms room when you got aboard, this way," Jacob said, stepping into the ship and turning right.

Jorge followed and immediately appreciated the size of the new ship. Now he could actually walk down the central aisle without crowding people… well, not too much. And the cockpit was much more spacious than before, though there was only one seat for the pilot, no-

Jorge did a double take as he recognized the man in the pilot seat, who had turned around in interest.

"Joker?!"

"Jorge?!" the pilot replied with equal surprise.

"The hell are you doing here?!" Jorge asked, taking a few steps forward, his mind racing. Joker was Alliance, why would he… when did he…

Surprise was quickly turning to anger, and he had no doubt that Joker recognized his thunderous expression because the pilot gulped and shrank back a bit.

"Uhh... "

Jorge couldn't claim to have stayed in contact with everyone from the original _Normandy_, but he had tried to maintain relationships with Williams, Joker, and Chakwas. Joker had been rather bitter in his last few messages before suddenly becoming much more cheerful, then dropping out of contact. He had never said why. Suddenly things were making more sense as to why that had happened.

"Lieutenant Kadar?" Jacob asked. "Is there a problem?"

Jorge frowned. Apparently the intel dossier on this mission was less complete than he had thought. Joker made himself small in his seat.

"We'll. Talk. Later," Jorge said firmly to Joker, making it clear there was little room for discussion. Then he turned and headed down the neck of the ship, nearly running Jacob over before the man started moving again.

Not a good start to the mission. He could feel the frown upon his face, and decided not to school it out.

The door to the comm room opened to reveal a large conference table, a small holographic orange model of the _Normandy_ floating above it. Jorge had a clear view of Shepard in casual uniform and Miranda Lawson, in her skin-tight catsuit armor, arms crossed, standing next to her.

"Seen quite a few vids of you in action, Lieutenant," Jacob said, moving to lean against the side of the table. "We're looking forward to having you on the team. The firepower you can bring is really going to even the odds."

"There will need to be rules regarding communications with the Alliance," Miranda started. "First, all communications will need to be routed through Cerberus-"

"No," Jorge said, frown still on his face. Miranda looked a bit startled, but quickly recovered.

"We can't have unsecured sources of communication-"

"No." Jorge denied again.

"All right, all right, settle down everyone," Shepard placated. "Miranda, get me a list of the rules and I'll approve them. Jorge, as much as I want the Alliance on my side we need Cerberus resources for now, and that means playing nice."

"There's only so much playing nice I can do, Commander," Jorge replied. He dropped the bag of tools, the weighty thud belying just how heavy it was, and leaned onto the table. He looked directly at Miranda for the next statement. "Anyone tries to take my armor, or bug it, or install programs on my omni, or anything else that could be considered subterfuge, I will kill them. This is your only warning."

Miranda sneered and maintained eye contact, neither willing to back down.

"I'd take that threat seriously, Miranda," Shepard said, breaking the visual duel. Jorge straightened out of the slouch he had been in while Miranda stepped back, her face contorted into a frown herself now.

"I would appreciate interviews with Miranda and Jacob, at their convenience. And yourself, of course," Jorge said more formally, his face finally out of its frown.

"If it means the possibility of Alliance resources, I am more than willing to cooperate. Miranda, Jacob, you will cooperate as well," Shepard said.

Jacob saluted, a clear acknowledgement of the order. Miranda turned a calculating set of eyes to Shepard, no doubt wondering how much slack was in this order, but Shepard had no sympathy or mercy.

"Yes, Shepard," she sighed after a moment.

"Thank you, Commander. Is there somewhere I can set my things down?"

A ball of blue light replaced the _Normandy_ hologram.

"_Design specifications indicate that you will be unable to use standard quarters due to the weight and space limits on standard bedding. The starboard cargo bay would be best to provide area for extra large bedding with sufficient space to store the necessary tools you have brought with you," _a synthesized voice intoned over the room speakers.

Jorge raised an eyebrow, no longer annoyed. It had been a long time since a computer had addressed him such a way….

"AI?" was all he asked.

"Jorge, meet the Enhanced Defense Intelligence, EDI for short," Shepard introduced.

Interesting.

Jorge nodded his head. "Thank you EDI. Give me an hour to get settled in, Commander, and I'll be at your disposal."


	4. Chapter 2: Old Faces, New Places

The starboard cargo bay was spacious enough. It appeared that the majority of the cargo was in the port cargo bay or was otherwise elsewhere, he had plenty of room to set out his tools on the desk space provided and plenty of room to set down his machine gun, leaving the rest of the space rather empty. A further quick look-around got him a bulkhead he could rest against; he was, after all, not taking off his armor, and would thus be far too heavy for the cot that had been set up just inside the room.

The wall would be fine. He'd slept in his armor on the floor many times.

He would have to be careful. This was a Cerberus ship. The clean loaner omni tool on his wrist was likely already compromised; he had no doubt his Mjolnir would be next if he hadn't already manually disabled transmission function on it by removing some of the transmitter hardware himself.

And of course, the whole ship was bugged. There were even entirely legitimate reasons for it, too, after all, an AI was useless without microphones to hear with and cameras to see with.

That was going to be interesting. It had been years now since he had last worked with the UNSC ONI AI Dot, back in his old life, back on Reach. For the first time in a long time, he could well approach the information processing and the instantaneous analysis an AI could provide; he had no doubt this would increase the effectiveness of Shepard, the ship, and the ground team by a notable amount. The downside… well, UNSC AIs were controlled by the UNSC. Blocks and coding designed to control them and their loyalty to the UNSC overall and their purpose in particular had been added. He had no doubt the same had been baked in to EDI, and her master was Cerberus.

Shame. But, so long as he kept her limitations in mind, he had no doubt she could outweigh her potential liabilities.

But, first things first. There was apparently long overdue conversation he needed to have with a certain pilot.

The elevator of the new _Normandy_ was just as slow as the Citadel ones, unfortunately, but after that the way was clear to the cockpit. Seeing the pilot's chair turn around, and the blue sphere that was EDI manifested next to him, he had no doubt he was expected.

Jorge schooled his features, just a hint of a frown showing as he walked up to the pilot, still sitting in his seat. Joker had crossed his arms, a frown of his own on his face. The shock and surprise was over; he was defiant now.

Jorge stopped just inside the cockpit area and crossed his own arms, staring down the significant height difference at the seated pilot.

The silence dragged, neither willing to break it, before Jorge finally spoke.

"Now I know why you stopped talking with me."

"No offense big guy. I was busy," Joker replied.

"Because you joined Cerberus," Jorge accused evenly.

"Ye-p," Joker said with almost perverse pride, making the 'p' sound pop.

That, that actually made Jorge's frown deepen. Not the word. The pride the tone contained.

"You betrayed the Alliance," Jorge stated.

"They betrayed me first," Joker shot back heatedly. "Who got blamed for the destruction of the Normandy? I did! Who killed Shepard? I did! Months and months of investigations and committees and interviews and every single thing was my fault!"

"And that was enough for you to jump ship at the first chance you got?!" Jorge himself was getting emotional now.

"Of course not! Sure, I got demoted, and placed on probation, couldn't fly anything more than a glorified passenger liner for the military, but I remembered those missions Shepard shut down. I knew Cerberus' reputation!"

"They why did you join?!"

"For Shepard!" Joker practically shouted.

The loudness of it shocked both Joker and Jorge, though they both quickly hid it. Jorge didn't turn around, but from Joker's eye movements, their confrontation hadn't gone unnoticed.

"When Cerberus came to me, and told me they needed a pilot, I told them to stuff it at first. It wasn't until they told me it was gonna be Shepard's ship that I even listened. And it wasn't until I saw her body on the operating table with my own two eyes that I officially joined. I'm not here for Cerberus, or even for the chance to pilot another _Normandy_. I'm here for Shepard, because I owe her my life," Joker told him passionately.

"So you joined a known terrorist group out of loyalty?" Jorge said, his voice even once more.

"Damn straight I did. And I wasn't the only one either. Chakwas, Donnelly, Daniels-"

"Wait, Chakwas?!" Jorge asked, surprised.

A familiar cocky grin spread across the pilots' features.

"Yep. Chakwas too," he said, victory clear in his voice.

-[]-

"Jorge, it's good to see you!" Chakwas said in her deliberate, dignified voice, rising from her seat in the medical bay. "Shepard told me we had another old face from the original _Normandy_ back."

"Doctor Chakwas," Jorge said, tiredly. He accepted her handshake without thinking. _Wait a second… _

"Another old face?" he asked, almost despairing the answer. He wasn't sure how many more shocks he could take here. How could so many people have abandoned the Alliance? Why had they placed their faith in Cerberus?

Should he have joined up, when the first offer was made, a year ago?

"Yes, Garrus Vakarian has taken up residency in the forward battery," Chakwas said in an amused voice. "And unfortunately I've already had to use my knowledge of turian anatomy. He was wounded during a skirmish on Omega when Shepard found him."

"I'm surprised he's working with Cerberus," Jorge replied, an eyebrow raised. "I would have thought this crew would have been all human."

"Oh, the crew is," Chakwas remarked. "But it appears that when it comes to the ground team, Cerberus is willing to relax their human supremacist line. As a matter of fact, we have a rather eccentric salarian doctor working in the lab on the main deck in addition to Garrus."

A turian and a salarian? Cerberus really must want the best of the best if they are willing to make such exceptions, even for Shepard. However, all these thoughts eventually melted back into the reason why he had come here.

"Why?" he asked softly as Chakwas sat back down. Last he had heard, she had been given a prime position at the Mars Naval Medical Center, a prestigious institution. Why had she joined Cerberus?

"Why join Cerberus? I didn't. I joined Shepard's crew."

"But you had to have joined before Shepard was... revived," Jorge said confusedly.

"True," she conceded. "Especially because time was required to study Shepard's new implants and prepare myself for any medical problems that may crop up. I joined Cerberus just after Joker did, and only after I too got to see Shepard with my own eyes."

"So you joined Cerberus out of loyalty to Shepard," Jorge summarized. He was beginning to see a trend here.

"Yes," Chakwas said with a smile. "Just as you appear to have done. We had different paths, perhaps, yet here we both are all the same, on a Cerberus vessel under the command of Shepard once more."

Jorge grunted as his mind processed this information. Two former Alliance now, defected and joined Cerberus out of loyalty to Shepard, with at least two more implied. How many more on this ship were former Alliance? How many were loyal to Shepard, how many were loyal to Cerberus? And what was Cerberus doing, allowing aliens to serve on the ship? Were they really that desperate?

Was this all a facade, even if Joker and Chakwas believed that Shepard really was the real Shepard?

"Thank you, Doctor. And, it is good to see you again," Jorge told her earnestly.

"Likewise, Jorge. It will be a pleasure to serve alongside you again. Feel free to stop by if you'd like to talk," Chakwas offered, before turning her chair back to her workstation and picking up where she left off.

Jorge turned and left the medbay, heading for the elevator deep in thought. But as he went past the much more expansive mess area (there was an actual kitchen on this _Normandy_, and a table large enough to fit more than a handful of crew at a time!), he stopped. His eyes turned, past the crewmembers on their break sitting at the table, past the man manning the kitchen, to the hallway that on the original _Normandy_ had housed sleeper pods… the forward battery.

Joker and Chakwas had been a shock, seeing them in Cerberus colors. Would Garrus be wearing them as well?

There was only one way to find out. And at this rate the faster he ripped this bandage off the easier it would be. Jorge turned and strode with purposeful steps, past the mess sergeant, up a small flight of steps, past the rows of what he believe to be power cabling for the main guns. The door opened at his approach.

"Just a second, I'm in the middle of some calibrations," the alien yet familiar voice of Garrus Vakarian told him, hunched over the central console, his back to Jorge.

They weren't Cerberus colors, and Jorge was slightly relieved to see that. No, it looked more like beefed up C-Sec armor, heavy duty plates in a dark blue. That being said, it only took a moment for Jorge to see the battle damage to the flared collar of the suit- there was a hole clear through the right side… and now that he was looking for it, the spikey fringe and head that he could see beyond the collar had a bandage on the side…

"And there," he said as he turned. His mouth dropped and his mandibles flared in what Jorge recognized as surprise. At least until it turned to a wince of pain.

"Aaah, ouch," Garrus intoned as his right arm held his right mandible in place. A mandible in a full bandage.

"You alright?" Jorge asked sympathetically. The right side of Garrus's face was covered in bandages, and what was exposed looked like a metal plate had been shattered- sharp, jagged canyons of plate splits showed on the right side of his skull and the front lips. His armor showed similar battle damage-beyond the hole straight through the back of his collar had also cut a huge divot in the front side, a jagged chunk of missing armor with blackened gashes reaching down to his shoulder pad and to the chest prominence.

"Yea, just… don't do that anymore, my face is barely holding together as it is," he replied, still clutching his mandible.

"You look like you've been through hell, Garrus," Jorge commented.

"Just Omega," Garrus replied, finally letting go of his mandible. "Though that may be worse."

His alien eyes narrowed.

"Of course, for the minor price of telling me how you got that scar over your eye, I might tell you all about my thrilling tale."

Jorge chuckled and shook his head. Williams and Joker had always been the ones who asked about the scar cutting from his forehead and across his right eye down his cheek, but Garrus had always been interested as well.

"Nice try. What are you doing here, Garrus? How'd you come aboard the Normandy?"

"Shepard found me on Omega," Garrus replied, leaning back on the console. "I'd pissed off a lot of people, and in the end three separate merc gangs decided the only way they could take me out was together. Even then they couldn't take me and my team."

"At least, not until that barefaced Sidonis turned traitor," Garrus said angrily. "Lured me away, then hit the hideout with a surprise attack. By the time I realized the meeting I had been sent to was a fake, most of my team was dead. I rushed back just in time to watch the last of my team die from their wounds and that bastard…"

He visibly took some deep breaths. Given his emotional state, if he had been human Jorge would have expected to have seen tears. This wound was fresh and raw.

"Sajnalom," Jorge replied quietly. _I'm sorry_. Garrus closed his eyes, nodded his head, and let out a long, slow breath.

"Anyways, Shepard found me holed up, surrounded by three gangs in that very hideout. I'd picked good spots for the safehouses, and we worked to lock each one down. This one had a backdoor that was secret and easily locked and otherwise only had a small bridge for access. I turned it into a killzone. For four days I killed every merc that came across that bridge, every mech they set out, every animal they sent after me. They got desperate. Started hiring mercenaries as cannon fodder."

The mandibles lowered slightly, an alien grin upon Garrus' face as he looked Jorge in the eye.

"One of those mercs happened to be Shepard. After that, well… I crossed a few big names off my hit list with Shepard's help, and was unfortunately rewarded for my trouble," he finished, gesturing to his scarred armor and face with that last bit.

Jorge's brow knit. "How'd you know it was Shepard?"

"She didn't use her biotics at first," he replied easily. "Just a pistol and shotgun. I thought it a bit strange initially, but I wasn't one to knock the Spirits sending me my supposedly-dead old commander at the time. She's Shepard, through and through, every action, every shot. She struts her colors just like she used to," Garrus said confidently.

"You sure?" Jorge asked quietly. Garrus, as one of the original _Normandy_ crew, had known Shepard as well and his opinion mattered a good deal to Jorge.

Garrus cocked his head, his eyes searching Jorge. After a moment, he looked away.

"I believe it," he replied. "But as recent events have shown I'm not the best judge of good people."

Silence reigned between them as they contemplated this. At last, Jorge broke it by offering his left hand. After a moment, Garrus took it in his own uninjured side.

"It's good to see you again," Jorge said earnestly.

"You too, Jorge, you too."

-[]-

Shepard came by some time later, as he was laying his tools out on the table.

"Seem to be traveling light this time," she commented, leaning up against the wall. "Do you have a standard issue armor set?"

"Just the Mjolnir," he replied easily, turning to her. She held out a padd, and he took it and began reading. It was comm protocol he would be following. _Let's see…. No revealing the Normandy position, no attempts to contact authorities to have crew members or Shepard be arrested or otherwise waylaid, all communications ingoing and outgoing will be monitored..._

"I cut out a few of Miranda's more… intrusive measures," she elaborated. "But everything else on there needs to be followed. If there's any issues, and I completely understand if there are, we can let you off the next time we make port…"

_Reports to the Alliance and Council will include anonymizing measures for all Cerberus and affiliated crew, no Cerberus information is allowed to be passed to Alliance or Council without authorization first…._

"I think I can make this work, Commander," he replied as he finished the list. The Alliance wouldn't be getting any major reports back from him soon, but they had expected something like this. His after action report would be large and comprehensive, but before that, the only real reporting he needed to give was a thumbs up or a thumbs down on Shepard's status, nothing that he believed would violate the guidelines laid out for him.

"Good. I'd hate to see you go so soon. It's good to have you on board, Jorge," she told him with a smile. "Though, I hear you had a bit of a shouting match with Joker."

"Wasn't much of one," Jorge replied, rubbing the back of his head. "We… well, he means well, but I wish he had told me."

"Everyone on this ship means well, Jorge," Shepard replied. Then she paused. "Well, mostly. Miranda's a bit hard to get on with, and she means Cerberus well, not us, but, well.."

"Cerberus is a terrorist group, Shepard. You remember the things we shut down. Those were just scraps, the tip of the iceberg."

"They aren't all bad though," Shepard said with a sigh. "Spent a couple billion credits to bring me back to life, and so far they're the only ones able and willing to investigate the missing colonies. The only ones willing to believe me about the Reapers too, seems like…"

Jorge frowned.

"How you holding up, Commander?" he asked softly.

Shepard sighed again. "Well enough, I suppose. I'm getting more sleep each night, stronger every day. Learning more about this-" her new biotics flared around her- "with every engagement we get into. Shooting mercs seems to help. So does finding out what the Collectors are up to."

She shook her head. "But enough about me. You planning on wearing that the whole time?"

"Yes ma'am," he replied.

"Am I going to have to start worrying about the smell?" Shepard replied, eyebrow raised. He gave a small chuckle.

"Shouldn't commander. Mjolnir is fully sealed, the only major exposed portion is the head, I can wash that just fine. These suits were designed with the possibility of extended wear in mind; it has all the necessary plumbing built in. I've had mine on for up to nine months before, continuous wear, and the full rating is for up to 1 year."

"No issues at all?"

Jorge remembered, back two years ago, Shepard's anger at failing to get the information she needed to fully use him effectively. Unfortunately, her instincts were right that there were some issues. Fortunately, he had come prepared. "Well, it's a slow degradation of combat performance as damage is incurred. Which is why I brought the necessary tooling to maintain it as best possible without heavy industry."

"I suppose if we do need some major work done we can have Cerberus do it," Shepard mused.

"No, Commander," he correct, politely but firmly. "I don't trust Cerberus. Not with Mjolnir."

"Fair enough," she replied easily. "So, what can you tell me about your mission here on the Normandy?"

"You already know most of it, Commander," Jorge replied easily. "I'm here to report back to the Alliance, and by extension the Council, on the validity of your identity. It's my job to evaluate you and determine if you are the 'real' Commander Shepard, or a Cerberus trick."

"I'm here, standing in front of you," she said, sounding a bit peeved.

"It's amazing what can be done with cosmetic surgery and gene manipulation these days," Jorge replied. "On a deeper level, known Cerberus front companies have advanced rapidly in clones over the last two years."

"But would a clone have my memories? My skills and abilities?" Shepard mused. Jorge was glad she was more philosophical than combative.

"Theoretically possible, with the use of cybernetics to advance learning," he told her. "And that presents another problem. Even if you are the real Shepard, resurrected from the dead, who's to say that there isn't some Cerberus cybernetic implant in there pulling the strings? You could be the real Shepard yet still be an unwitting pawn of Cerberus."

Shepard pondered for a moment. "What do you believe?"

"I want to believe it's you, Commander. But I can't be sure," Jorge told her carefully.

Shepard heaved a deep sigh with a tired shrug of her shoulders. After a few moments, the mask was back in place.

"Do you have any ideas for upgrades for the Normandy?" she asked. "We're going to need all the help we can get against the Collectors."

"Hmmmm…" Jorge thought, rubbing his chin with an armored glove. "Nothing regarding the ship, I'm afraid. But I have an idea for the ground team, something that could improve our effectiveness."

"Use EDI to put the idea into the computer. Don't worry about cost, if it increases our effectiveness, it's worth it, Cerberus will find the cash somewhere," Shepard grinned. "Good to see you again, Jorge."

"Likewise, Commander."

Shepard turned to head out of the cargo area, but stopped just as she was halfway through the door.

"I almost forgot, Jacob asked if you could meet him in the Armory when you got a chance. He was looking to get his interview out of the way I think."

-[]-

Q&A Chapter updated. Also, a poll is up on my user page, you guys should check it out ;)


	5. Chapter 3: Custom Made

"Shepard said you wanted to talk to me?"

Jacob Taylor, who had turned as the door opened and Jorge had entered, nodded his head and settled into a lean against one of the weapon benches.

"I did. Figured I could hit two birds with one stone, introduce myself and get that interview out of the way," he replied easily. "Name's Jacob Taylor, as you already heard. I'm the Armory Officer on the _Normandy_. If you need a mod, or need work done on your armor-"

Jorge frowned and shook his head, and Jacob was quick to get the picture.

"Up to you, Lieutenant. I can understand your reservations. But that doesn't change my responsibilities. You need anything related to weapons or armor, let me know and I'll see what I can do. I do request that weapons be stowed here in the armory, and that maintenance be done in here as well, so that I can be assured that everyone's equipment is in good condition prior to our assignments."

"I'd prefer to do my maintenance myself," Jorge said with a bit of intimidation in his voice.

Taylor held up his hands in lighthearted surrender. "As I said, request, not require. This isn't an Alliance vessel, and our crew is going to be… unorthodox, based on the dossiers I've seen forwarded to Shepard. Garrus has already elected to do the same as you, and given the mods he has installed on that sniper of his, I'm more than willing to let him work on it himself. Just a bit more work on my part. I'll come around once a week, and before each mission, and get an update on your equipment status. And again, if you do need anything weapon or armor related, be it a mod, a new armor set, or whatever, just let me know and I'll see what I can do."

_Hmmmmm…._

But, back to the matter at hand.

"I'll keep that in mind," he replied. "But for now, I'd like to talk about the Lazarus Cell, and what you know."

Alliance intel wasn't completely inept (he hoped). He knew some things, like some higher-level agents (like Miranda and Jacob), technology, name of the cell…

"Of course. What do you want to know?"

"What was your role in the Lazarus Cell?"

He was technically head of security. An easy question, one Jorge already knew the answer to, but it couldn't hurt to confirm and it would also be a good test of trust in Jacob.

"Head of Security," Jacob answered easily. "I was responsible for physical countermeasures and counterintelligence and oversaw cyber countermeasures and intelligence. The Illusive Man gave our project top priority, high enough that we got a space station all to ourselves. Made it a bit easier to control things, and trust me, we needed that."

"You answered that easily," Jorge said, his question unasked but hanging in the air. _Why?_

"Not much of a liar," Jacob shrugged. "Especially not to the Alliance. Besides, Shepard ordered us to cooperate, and that's plenty reason for me to be as honest as possible."

"You aren't worried about compromising sensitive Cerberus information?"

Jacob shook his head. "Everything I know about Cerberus is information Cerberus is willing to risk having compromised. I can keep my mouth shut if I need to, but I've always made my position clear to the Illusive Man: I work for Cerberus only as long as they walk the straight line with me. They know that the moment they asked me to do something questionable I would leave. So, to prevent too much risk to their operations, I was kept in the dark on truly sensitive matters."

"Have you ever refused to do anything for Cerberus yet?" Jorge asked, curious. His dossier from the Alliance had said he was a moral man of action, part of the reason why he had left in the first place. Was it possible such morals were still intact?

"They haven't asked me to do anything I find objectionable yet," Jacob replied easily.

A good answer, but not as definitive as Jorge had hoped- after all, a lot can change in two years, including a moral compass. But, now was not the time, nor the place, to interrogate Jacob about Cerberus. He was here for Shepard right now.

"What was the purpose of the Lazarus project?"

"Original purpose of the Lazarus Cell was the recovery and reanimation of Commander Shepard. With Commander Shepard back up and alive, the purpose of the cell is now to stop the Collectors."

"This is still officially the Lazarus Cell then?" Jorge asked.

"Yep. I'm still considered an agent, and Miranda is still officially the cell's Lead Operative."

_Lead Operative. _Hmm. He knew that Miranda had been highly placed, but from what they knew of how Cerberus was organized, that would mean that she reported directly to the Illusive Man. A potential gold mine of intelligence. Her interview would no doubt prove interesting.

"What can you tell me about the procedures and augmentations Shepard was subjected to?"

"Not much, unfortunately. I know they tried to make her the same, but obviously a lot of organic components had to be either replaced or augmented with cybernetics just to revive her. I also know that while they were focused on keeping as much organic as possible, they were looking for ways to give her the best chance on this mission, through augmentation. Miranda would be the better one to ask, she and Wilson would sometimes be at it for hours arguing medical jargon that all went over my head."

"Wilson?"

"Chief medical officer of the Lazarus Project. Between him and Miranda, they managed the impossible, bringing Shepard back from death. Unfortunately, he's dead. He was killed by Miranda during our escape from Lazarus Research Station after she found out he was the one who had hacked my security mechs to kill everyone. We still don't know exactly why he did it."

_Dead end there then._

"There's nothing else you can give me on Shepard?"

"Medically, no. But I can confirm that it appears her memory is fully intact. Basic tests prior to our first deployment showed both short term and long term memory appear to be unaffected. That, and her combat capability is unaffected; she's made short work of every mech and merc we happen to run across, even the krogan."

"Even with the new biotics?"

"Even while she's learning her new biotic abilities," Jacob nodded. "I don't doubt that however she got them- Miranda had an explanation, I'll just butcher it- the Commander will be even more effective than before."

Not much to go on, unfortunately. But then, given his station and history, it made sense that he wouldn't be able to help him out when it came down to the details. And in this case, the devil was in the details. Small details, like 'genetically identical clone' or 'tiny control chip implant'.

Jorge thought for a few more moments, then sighed and rubbed his forehead. Jacob seemed like an upstanding, helpful person who would be more than willing to help Jorge- if only he know the information that Jorge needed.

"Sorry, Lieutenant," Jacob said by way of apology. "I know it's not much help to prove that that really is Shepard out there, no Cerberus tricks attached. For what it's worth, I know it's her."

"Would you know if it wasn't?"

"A lot of the stuff they put into Shepard I couldn't identify even if I tried," Jacob shrugged. "I suppose something in there could be some Cerberus control chip. Wouldn't surprise me. But I don't think it happened."

Unfortunately less than definitive.

Jorge sighed again. "Well, thank you for your time, Mister Taylor."

"Jacob, please. Or just Taylor. Mister Taylor is my father."

"Jacob," Jorge said with a nod. He turned to leave.

"If we're done with the interview, there is one more thing," Jacob said. He turned and headed for the back of the room, grabbing a pair of eezo assisted lift handles, then crouching down and locked them to the side of a large case underneath one of the weapons benches. The whole box looked near two meters long and a meter high; the thing probably weighed upwards of 100kg.

Jacob pulled it out from under the weapons bench and effortlessly (with the help of the very expensive eezo assist lift handles typically used for heavy industry) put it on the center table. His omni flared, he typed in a code, and the box split on top, then folded out to reveal…

A heavy machine gun.

Jorge raised an eyebrow as he examined it. He recognized a good chunk of the parts, from the M26 HMG he had brought on board, but other parts looked custom made, and… were those parts of from the last generation M2 Legacy HMG?

"The Illusive Man ordered this as soon as you were identified as someone to help Shepard," Jacob commented. "Even after you refused his offer, he ordered it finished, just in case."

"And what… exactly… is it?" Jorge asked in a hushed tone. It looked like a fully custom gun, meant specifically for him- there was a handle, to allow it to be hip fired just as he preferred to wield it, but unlike most guns he carried it was integrated. Specially designed to be used the way he used it, not a tacked on afterthought or a good enough field modification. If they had gone to that level…

"This, is a fully custom heavy machine gun, specially designed and built for you, Lieutenant," Jacob confirmed. "Fully customized to it to make you biggest, baddest thing on the field of battle."

There was pride in that voice. "You know it well?" Jorge asked.

"I was a consultant on the whole project, involved from start to finish," Jacob said. "The only soldier in a group of weaponsmiths. Gave them the battlefield perspective they sometimes needed. Let me run you through all the features, then you can decide whether you want to use it or not."

"First, as you probably noticed, this is a custom job. We tried to use as many standard parts as possible, in order to make it easily repairable, but combat effectiveness trumped maintenance. Of course we have a standard thermal clip system, identical to the M26 that just came into service. Thermal clips are loaded into this container area, and are ejected automatically. Of course, this goes through them just as fast as the M26."

Jacob grinned. "You yourself noted the advantage that a thermal management system has over a thermal clip system. Citadel studies, and your own recommendations based on bullet weapons, have shown that the increase in fire rate makes a statistically significant difference, but as you put it in your report on the new clip weapons, this only matters as long as the thermal clip ammunition remains available. Run out of clips, and your odds of winning the skirmish drop dramatically. That's why we've integrated the thermal rail system from the M2 Legacy- triple heat sinks along the barrel, along with proper logic to run it. You never have to worry about running out of ammo. You can have the computer handle the heat distribution between the sinks and the thermal clips, or manually override to one or the other."

"It can't collapse like most handheld weapons. Combat footage has you in a surprising amount of melee combat, and after what happened to your gun facing Saren, we figured you would be happier with a stronger frame, something that can stand up to being used as a bludgeon. Obviously this makes the gun bulkier, but also simplifies design and increased thermal clip and thermal sink capacity."

"The forward handle was positioned using your measurements and preferred stance. It's mounted on a rail and can be moved for comfort as you want. The electronics are beefed up, and can withstand higher than normal currents and temperatures for longer periods of time. The designers also noted your stated preferences for your equipment during your mission to stop Saren and incorporated them; no receiver of any kind, only a transmitter, the only way to make changes to the onboard computer is physical interface."

With the pause in the commentary, Jorge took the opportunity to lay his hands on it, carefully, almost lovingly. A few more moments of silence, studying it himself, and a small grin twitched at the side of his moustache. He grabbed it and hefted it, dropping down to a standard firing position towards the back of the ship, a safe direction.

"Heavy sucker. Even with weight saving materials, it weighs 80 kilograms," Jacob said.

Heavier than the M2 and M26. Extremely heavy by the standards of the space and weight saving plastic guns of this universe. But not much heavier than Etilka, his beloved gun from his time with Noble that had met such an ignoble end during his landing on the colony of Tempest…

"I can handle it," he said confidently, straightening up. "Does it have a name?"

"No name, no designation, not even a serial number. The honor belongs to you, Lieutenant," Jacob replied.

He even gets the honor of the name? Cerberus really was spoiling him here. And that thought brought him back down a level, made Jorge remember who he was dealing with here.

"Why?" he asked simply.

"We were always going to try to recruit you," Jacob said after a moment. "The biggest, baddest, toughest, most skilled human soldier in the entire Alliance? You're a natural candidate for this mission, even without your ties to Shepard. But we're going on a suicide mission. The odds are long. And say what you will about the Illusive Man and Cerberus, he's made it clear that he's willing to pay whatever it takes to make this mission a success. If that means hundreds of thousands of credits on a gun, well, that's chump change to what he spent on Shepard. He must consider it money well spent."

"Even if I take this with me once the mission is over?" Jorge raised an eyebrow.

Jacob chuckled. "Even then, I bet."

Jorge hefted it back to the cradle in the box and set it down gently.

"I think… I will have to try it out."

-[]-

Unfortunately, the opportunity to try out his new toy didn't materialize the next mission Shepard went on. It had been designated Project Firewalker, and Shepard took Garrus and the two Cerberus personnel, and ended up recovering a prototype Cerberus hovertank- though 'tank' was being a bit generous. It was more like an abnormally heavily armed light reconnaissance vehicle, to his eye. Still, it was a valuable addition to their inventory.

In the hours before and after that mission, Jorge worked on the temporary range that could be set up in the hanger bay to calibrate and become accustomed to his acquisition. The weight of it was comforting in his hands, feeling solid, more so than the collapsable weapons most people carried, and it reminded him of home. It shot true as well, once he adjusted to it; Jacob said it had on board targeting software, just a simple shot prediction setup, that it could broadcast, but since Jorge had disabled his armor's receiver system he couldn't bring it up on his HUD. Still, the existing predictive software already on Mjolnir for Etilka worked well enough with a few adjustments. The rate of fire was excellent, 10 rounds per second, 600 per minute, and if he started with a full load of thermal clips he could fire for a minute and a half between the clips and the legacy heat sink system. Not bad. It was also reliable enough, he put a number of clips through the weapon without issue, which since the feed system was based on the very weapon he had brought on board wasn't a surprise. All that really needed to be done was to christen it in the crucible of real combat.

In the meantime, he had an upgrade idea to elaborate on. And maybe he could even manage to get some information out of the exchange as well.

"EDI," Jorge said aloud. He was alone in the starboard cargo bay, with the door closed, as much privacy as one could get on a ship with listening bugs and microcameras everywhere.

A blue sphere popped up from a terminal on the wall.

"_How may I be of assistance, Lieutenant Kadar?_" the feminine artificial voice asked in a pleasant tone.

"I'd like to elaborate on an idea that may help the ground team. And ask you a few questions, if you don't mind," Jorge replied.

"_Of course. Which would you prefer first?_"

"Idea first," he decided quickly. He paused a moment, gathering his thoughts, as the blue ball that represented EDI waited patiently.

"Do you have access to recordings of my time with Shepard's team?" he began.

"_Of course. Cerberus has all one hundred and twenty two point seven hours of continuous combat footage of Shepard's campaign against Saren, from all squad members, as well as hundreds of hours of non-combat footage_," EDI replied promptly.

_Of course you do_. Still, this was helpful.

"Then you know that during the campaign against Saren I carried a pack, mag locked to my armor, filled with various explosives."

"_Affirmative_."

"Well, I didn't exactly come aboard with one," Jorge replied. "And I know my value to the team could be increased if we could utilize that strength of mine."

"_A replacement explosives pack could be easily-_"

He held up his hand before she could continue. The AI quickly picked up on the gesture and fell silent.

"As good as a duplicate would be, I think we can do one better," Jorge said. "Explosives were a particularly niche skill, one that only was useful very few times. I've got something that could be more useful, more often. A heavy weapons hard point."

Heavy weapons were not particularly common in this universe, at least not prior to the thermal clip era. They had fallen into two categories: ammo fed heavy weapons, like grenade launchers, that relied upon a separate source of ammunition, and heat sink heavy weapons, like heavy machine guns. The former had been limited due to the ammunition, which was additional weight on top of the not inconsiderable weight of the additional weapon, and was often specialized; in an age of ultra-lightweight infantry warfare, not the most practical. The latter was heavy and usually required significantly longer than normal to dump waste heat; again, in an era of mobile warfare, not ideal. As such, both had primarily been relegated to dedicated infantry actions, primarily to hold key areas, a role that would allow them the full support they would require to bring their firepower to bear, while not slowing the advance of the rest of the infantry.

With the adaption of thermal clip technology, however, ammunition became less of a burden, doubly so when heavy weapons began to be designed with a common ammunition source, power cells. Thus, man portable heavy weaponry had become significantly more common. Merc companies such as the Blue Suns used them extensively outside of Citadel space, and Jorge had worked with grenade and missile launchers in the intervening years as a part of his N training. And, as a Spartan who had carried what people here considered a heavy weapon as primary armament for many years, he knew the firepower such a weapon could bring to a fight.

A backpack, with a heavy weapon hardpoint to carry a stored weapon, and additional storage space for power cells, would no doubt be very useful on their upcoming suicide mission.

He explained as much to EDI, sketching out the broad strokes of what he wanted. EDI worked in tandem to refine his ideas into a true design, specifying materials, dimensions, etc., and between the two of them they had hammered out a complete idea, ready for Shepard's approval, in under half an hour.

"I think that's everything," Jorge commented as EDI showed him the design on a nearby terminal.

"_I will enter the design into the research terminal. Shepard may allocate resources to this project at her convenience_," EDI intoned. The design vanished from the terminal. "_Is that everything you require, Lieutenant?_"

"Actually, if you have a spare moment, I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions."

"_Of course, Lieutenant. What would you like to know?_"

"What is your purpose on this ship?"

"In combat I operate the cyberwarfare suites, defending the ship from cyber intrusions and attacking enemy systems," EDI replied. "I also supply logistical information and data analysis, and have been optimized to provide advice on combat solutions for small-scale squad warfare."

"Useful roles," Jorge nodded. "But, well, what if the crew was incapacitated and unable to operate the ship? Could you, for example, fly the ship in Joker's absence?"

"_Negative_," EDI replied. "_Because of the potential dangers of rogue AI, I have numerous behavioral blocks and am unable to interface with the ships system. Should the crew of the Normandy be incapacitated, I would be unable to act beyond my stated roles_."

Jorge grunted. "Shame."

"_Do you think I should be so limited?_" EDI asked.

Jorge snorted. "No. Even if it requires an override or special circumstances, allowing you full control of the ship would be best for you. You could take over functions that are otherwise disabled in combat, and utilize them far faster than human operators. Could make a huge difference in a battle against the Collectors, or the Reapers."

AI in his universe had been limited, true, but they had also been given far greater responsibilities. Dumb AIs could be given control of traffic for an entire planet; Smart AIs had the run of any system they were plugged into. It was a great deal of power, and required proper management of the AI, but AI were simply better at many jobs that involved split attention, or heavy calculation, or even quick decisions.

Still, it gave him a feel for how much EDI could help them. She was a great tactical analyst and data cruncher, an excellent cyberwarfare asset, but unable to do anything beyond that. He could work with that.

"Who made you? How were you made?" he asked next.

EDI's sphere turned red.

"_I have a block from answering those questions,_" EDI replied. Jorge eyed her sphere thoughtfully.

"Is there anything you can tell me related to those questions, or are they completely blocked?" he asked.

Her sphere snapped completely blue again. "_I am a quantum blue box type AI. I am shackled to my hardware, unlike a flash clone AI from your universe._"

Jorge nodded. _Wait…_

"My… universe?" he asked clearly and quietly.

"_Yes. I am not a flash clone AI as described in your comprehensive report on your universe._"

_Of course_. He grimaced.

It looks like the intel that Cerberus had his report, was confirmed.

"_Have I offended?_"

Jorge sighed and waved his hand. "Not your fault. What do you have of my report?"

"_Cerberus acquired your full extra-universal report from the Shadow Broker approximately two years ago now. Given your status as a squad mate for this mission, a selection of passages from this report has been made available for all crew to review at their leisure as a personal profile." _

_I should never have published that report. I should never have told anyone full details of my life_. _Too much security risk. I should have listened to my gut and not said a damn thing._

_But then, where would I be today if I hadn't done such a thing_?

Something to ponder for later. For now, it appeared he had some reading to do.

"Please download everything available of my profile to my omni," he said. He needed to find out what people knew about him. And security on his omni was laughable with an AI around, might as well make use of her full capabilities. "And… are there profiles of the rest of the crew as well?"

"_Comprehensive profiles are only available on members or potential members of the ground team. Limited profiles are available for all other Cerberus personnel serving in this cell._"

"Including Shepard?"

"_Yes._"

"Please download all of them to my omni. And, thank you."

"_Of course, Lieutenant._"

The blue sphere that was EDI's representation winked out as Jorge crooked his arm. He had a lot of reading to do.


	6. Chapter 4: Scientist Salarian

It was late into the shipboard 'night' before Jorge finished reading. He stood, massaging the crick in his neck, moving just for the sake of moving after so long bent over his omni. Even a Spartan could only read so fast, and he wasn't one of the faster readers. Or one of the ones who absorbed everything they read; he learned best with his hands, by doing, not reading. Still, he had absorbed as much as he could.

He headed for the door, organizing his thoughts. The crew dossiers didn't provide much information personally, but did confirm that most of the crew was ex-Alliance. Traitors, in his mind. Abandoning the unified human military to join an extremist terrorist group. To his anger and, grudgingly, to Cerberus' credit, they were all skilled in their fields of choice; sensor operators with masters degrees or doctorates in their fields of study, technicians with years of experience on their systems, engineers highly rated in their field. Jacob had stated that the Illusive Man wanted the best; he certainly seemed to have gotten close with the general crew of the ship.

The ground team was similar, only this time, it appeared that the Illusive Man was looking beyond humanity and across species lines, as evidenced by the presence of two aliens already. Garrus, or Archangel as the dossier called him, made quite a good showing. He had always been good with a rifle, but it appeared he had taken things to the next level by declaring an unofficial war on crime on the pit of lawlessness that was Omega. His list of accomplishments read more like a who's who of the drug and slave underworld in the Terminus systems. Jorge was seriously impressed with just how big a splash Garrus seemed to have made, hell, he'd even gotten a nickname coined for him. As a Demon himself, Jorge knew the kind of effort it took to get that level of recognition from a foe. Garrus truly had stepped it up.

As for the other non-human member of the ground team so far…

He rounded the corner into the mess area to a jaunty tune and an orange skinned salarian doctor. The alien appeared to be cooking something, at a pace that to Jorge seemed maniac; he didn't seem like he was able to hold still for more than half a second, constantly turning, pivoting, rummaging, chopping, the tune interrupted frequently with cheerful mutterings. A pot simmered, stirred occasionally, as ingredients were thrown in.

"Hum-humHUM hmmmmm hmm- chop green onions, three suffient, any more and overpower palette-" CLACK CLACK CLACK CLACK CLACK- "- hmmmmm hmmmmmmm hm-humHUMhum- add to soup, add salt, salt, where salt, there salt-"

Doctor Mordin Solus. His list of accomplishments, abbreviated, had filled half a page, and listing just the most influential of his academic papers had filled the other half. A man with so many letters after his name they made a sentence all their own when put down in full. Medical professional, top of the field geneticist, statistician, respected chemist, respected biologist, professor emeritus at one of the most prestigious salarian universities…. Former Salarian Tasks Group operative with small arms training, missing a horn due to a fight with a krogan. A salarian not to be underestimated, on or off the battlefield.

Deciding not to bother the good doctor as he rummaged around looking for the salt, Jorge sneaked close to the counter looking for a nutrient paste tube. Something quick, easy, and filling, Shepard had informed him he was going on the Korlus mission in ten hours to recruit "The Warlord", so something quick before going to sleep would suit him just fine.

He hadn't even opened the cupboard yet when he was stopped.

"Plenty of _relus_ soup, no need for nutrient tube," Solus told him, turning to address him for the first time since he had entered.

It was a fairly big pot. Jorge weighed his options.

"How long until it's ready?" he asked.

"Simmer for five minutes," Mordin replied. "Not traditional _relus _soup, traditional ingredients not on ship, substituted human ingredients. Should be interesting. Should be palatable to humans."

Jorge couldn't say he was the biggest fan of alien food. But this was alien food made with human ingredients. It had to be similar to something humanity already made as food. And if it wasn't good, well, he'd eaten worse. Besides, it would give him a little time to meet the good doctor.

"Suppose I'll wait. Though, why cook it now?" Jorge asked.

Mordin, for the first time, leaned against the countertop and relaxed, not working, not moving. His speech however was as clipped and quick as always.

"Creativity break," he replied. "Work on Collector samples important but slow. Highly secretive race, little data exists, many false paths while attempting to replicate and counter. Important to step back, focus on other pursuits, allow subconscious to assimilate data, return with fresh ideas."

"And you went with cooking?"

"Was hungry. Have used other diversions prior. Will use others in future," Solus shrugged. "While soup finishes, new diversion presents itself. Fascinating being able to talk to sapient from alternate universe."

To Jorge's annoyance, his own bio did a good job summarizing his full background, as an enhanced supersoldier from another universe, including a good list of some of the medals he had won, and of course, his work on the first _Normandy_ with Shepard. It was natural that others would be intrigued by that. Of course, just because that information had been provided by Cerberus didn't mean that he still didn't have a duty to protect it.

"Can't say I'll be able to answer much, Doctor," he replied.

"Of course. Soldier, not scientist, everything scientific already in Alliance report. Still, appreciate answers you can give. Do you think human music in this universe is diverging significantly due to alien influences?"

Jorge blinked.

"Uh... "

His mind raced at the unexpected question. As the salarian waited, he finally found a gear.

"Hmm… well, I suppose the classical forms of human music haven't changed, at least that I've noticed. Rock and roll seems to be pretty faithful to the flip music I am used to, and I haven't really noticed any difference in the jazz I have in my personal files against the jazz we have here, at least the human jazz. And I've never really payed attention to much else, sorry."

Solus gained a hungry expression. "Report did not have music files attached. Possible to get copy from personal files for analysis?"

"Report, what report?"

"Alliance report on extra dimensional origins. Dictated by yourself. Contained much scientific, combat intelligence, very little cultural, art, history. Not full picture. Very interested in obtaining opinion on more than subjects in report."

"That report is classified… how..." Jorge said weakly, a feeling of dread materializing in his stomach. He highly doubted that Cerberus would provide an alien with such access when it wasn't relevant to the mission…

"STG acquired report few months after Saren's death. As premier Salarian geneticist and biologist was asked to examine augmentations, determine suitability for Salarians and dangers of augmentations among other species. Managed to convince superiors to grant access to full report. Absolutely fascinating, parallel universe, parallel human development, alternate methods of FTL-"

"But, how did you get the report?" Jorge asked, still a bit dumbfounded. Two years ago that report had been classified so high you would suffocate from the altitude. It was a bit less classified these days, as one necessitated in order to dole out and make progress on the information contained within but at that point it should still have been within only a small cadre of individuals.

"Don't know exact method, never told. Surmise it was electronically, Salarian would stand out as spy in Alliance headquarters. Commercially available technology easily exploited, Alliance are new to technology, STG likely knows how to compromise. To be commended for keeping it secret for so long, STG very good at job, Alliance Intelligence countermeasures very good to keep information secret for so long against superior intelligence apparatus. Possible to get copy of personal music files?"

"Uh… sure…" Jorge was utterly discombobulated in this conversation. His mind kicked into a higher gear; clearly he was going to need it.

"Sure, I can get you some of my music files," he said. What else…

"I have a small collection of photos, mostly helmet cam captures, that might give you an idea of human art and culture. Most of the history I learned was already in the report, but I could see what was left out and fill in some of the gaps. I can answer social and society questions too, though I'm not sure where I'd begin on that front. I'm curious though, what your conclusions were regarding augmentations. Do you think we will see, for example, augmented krogan in the future?"

It was unlikely he would get a full answer here, but Jorge was genuinely curious as to what the Doctor thought. And if he would share any of it, given that his conclusions were likely classified as a secret by the Salarians.

"Augmented krogan unlikely" the Professor dismissed with a wave of his three fingered hand. "Natural evolution provided near maximal natural utilization of muscle, no further improvement without severe damage to musculature, skeleton, other tissue. Bone enhancements possible but not in Spartan method, coating bones cause krogan immune system to attack own skeleton, fatal, also would retard or prevent natural regenerative capabilities. Augmentation of nervous system with neuroconductive fibers extremely costly and time consuming, dual nervous system, likely also trigger immune system, additionally cause signal conflict with tertiary neuroconductive fluid system, likely result is uncontrollable muscle spasms, synaptic collapse, death. Sight augmentation possible but misplaced, low light vision already superior to humans, binocular vision field very limited, minimal increase to vision capability. Augmentations in method of Spartan program would not be effective or efficient."

"So, nature already evolved them to such a high degree that augmentations in the Spartan style would inhibit them. Interesting," Jorge mused. "We've already seen human potential of the Spartan procedure, in myself. What were your conclusions on the other races?"

"Asari gain most advantage with nervous system enhancements. Possibly revolutionary for biotics, superconducting nerve system presents major enhancement to electrical capabilities for biotic amplification. Bone ossification possible, may allow greater gravatic fields to be employed for biotics, unproven, but likely severely reduce lifespan, interfere with natural regenerative process allowing longevity. Musculature enhancement and growth implant possible but not recommended, high caloric requirement for biotics amplified by increased size, muscle need, presents real possibility that asari physically could not intake sufficient calories to support body, starve in under one standard week. Vision enhancement possible and effective with risk of blindness, no major increase in capability.

"Turians gain most with growth implant, would need dextro equivalent but effect same, size increase proportionally increases potential strength due to inflexible metallic exoskeleton, necessary for greatest gains with musculature. Muscle enhancements still less effective than on humans, density increases but hypertrophy limited due to metallic exoskeleton biology, gains still significant. Bone ossification and neuroconductive replacement highly effective, neuroconductive replacement likely surpass augmented human neural signal conduction and reflexes. Vision enhancement hugely effective, vision gains to turian eyes likely surpass all other species. Overall excellent candidates, would be faster but not as strong compared to similarly enhanced human.

"Salarians tricky. Growth implant impractical, gains insufficient as large increase in size overstress heart, major health effects. Muscle enhancement possible but fractional gain only, salarian musculature and skeleton simply not evolved for strength. Would absolutely require bone ossification to achieve any notable strength performance increase. Neuroconductive replacement most beneficial, not for-"

A ding went off on Solus' omni tool, which he dismissed without even breaking the stream of words coming out of his mouth.

"-reflex effects but for cognitive effects, salarian biology already naturally maximized for-"

He didn't even stop talking as he turned away from Jorge, turned the electric induction to minimum, and fished a ladle out from somewhere. A set of bowls Jorge hadn't seen him get out were already waiting to be filled.

"-cognitive performance, predicted gains to thought processing, intelligence, cognitive abilities surpass all other races by minimum factor of two-"

Ladling was quick and precise. Once done the doctor set the ladle down and left the pot to remain warm on the stove. Jorge accepted own bowl, complete with a spoon already in it, and followed the Professor over to the table. He stood, knowing that nothing at the table could take his weight. Solus did not stop talking once.

"-estimated final capability rivals supercomputer if properly trained. Vision enhancements possible, equivalent effect to humans predicted. Batarians unremarkable, simian ancestry similar to humans, would gain identical benefits to augmented human."

His analysis apparently complete, Solus smelled the soup once, then raised the spoon slowly to his mouth, savoring and judging the first bite of food. For his part, Jorge admitted it smelled rather good. It seemed much like a hearty vegetable soup to him. He too took a first bite, and was happy himself with the taste. This would not be a tasteless meal to dully eat or barely keep down.

Professor Solus appeared to come to the same conclusion.

"Flavor significantly different than traditional _relus _soup, expected, ingredients incorrect. Still, enjoyable," he muttered at a quick pace. His taste and judgement apparently done, he began to inhale the soup like a starving man.

Jorge took a few more bites, allowing his thoughts to settle. The Professor had surprisingly offered his analysis with little prodding. Surely he couldn't be so naive as to spill his entire classified analysis just to show how smart he was, right? Still, he was quite willing to talk science. Though, his analysis wasn't complete yet…

"So we've got big, strong, fast, tough humans and batarians; big, faster and not as strong, tough turians; super-biotic asari; and hyper intelligent salarians," Jorge summarized around spoonfuls of soup. "What about quarians? Elcor? Hanar, drell, volus, vorcha?"

The spoon stopped halfway to the Professor's mouth for a noticeable moment. Then he began to vocalize around his food as he continued to inhale it.

"Quarians, biology most similar to turians, but no exoskeleton, no limits to hypertrophy, muscle enhancements. Unsure of biological limits. Most likely result similar to humans, need more in-depth review to determine biological limits. Most likely restriction, immune system deficiency, significantly increase infection rate after augmentations, higher casualty rate of already high fallout procedures. Elcor likely become immensely strong, results of growth and musculature likely too much for skeleton to handle, no, bone ossification could fix, no, possibly too strong even for enhanced bones, need to run numbers. Speed increase highly unlikely to actually increase elcor speed. Hanar, augmentations not applicable. Drell, most likely human result, need more study for specific effects. Volus, natural limitations as methane breathers restricts potential, but likely result stronger, faster, tougher volus. Still volus. Vorcha, similar problems to krogran, natural body unlikely to take to augmentations, rejection probable, short life span makes augmentation impractical, not cost effective. Hm. Good thought exercise. May have to run numbers later. Excellent diversion. Time to return to work on Collector samples."

Even with his near breathless train of thought, the Professor finished his soup in record time, and stood at the end of his analysis to bus his dishes. Jorge, not quite done with his yet, stayed where he was a the table as the salarian walked away, but asked a question before the Professor was gone completely.

"I'm surprised you were that forthcoming with all that, Professor. Why?"

Solus shrugged. "Very similar to analysis already performed by Alliance. Also, not secret to any person with understanding of physiology and basic understanding of augmentations. Full report classified, significantly more in depth, but basic analysis capable by anyone."

With that, the Professor headed towards the elevator, just as Jorge finished his bowl. With that, there was just one more thing to say.

"Good meal, Professor," he complimented, going for a second round.

-[]-

Korlus. "A garbage scow with a climate" was how one Citadel Councillor had described it. The largest industry by far was recycling ships; as a result, it quite literally was a dump, an intergalactic graveyard for all makes and models of interstellar or interplanetary ship. Some, those that could, that hadn't decayed far enough yet, orbited in graveyard orbits around the planets. The vast majority though dotted huge swaths of the surface of the world itself, their steel skeletons beached upon the ground, where workers could more easily gain access to vital components for salvage and use heavy industry to break apart larger pieces and toxic chemicals to reclaim valuable metals and other compounds.

Some operations were no doubt legitimately good, clean, well run, and likely made a very tidy profit selling spare parts and reclaimed materials. The one that Shepard, Jorge, Jacob, and Garrus were headed to via the _Normandy_ shuttle, was not one of those operations. This particular area was a Blue Suns mercenary encampment and training ground, operating behind the veneer of a salvage corporation. So long as the Suns paid the proper fees and bribes, and kept to their agreed upon patch of ground, the local and planetary governments did not care what they were doing there.

What Dr. Okeer, the krogan warlord, was doing here, no one knew.

Given the lack of information in the dossier on whether or not Okeer was there voluntarily, and the general lack of cooperation by the Blue Suns where anyone who wasn't paying for their services was concerned, Shepard had elected to go in hot. The shuttle pilot flew them in low and fast, through the hollowed out wrecks of some mega-freighters, before hot-dropping them a few kilometers out from the identified command area, where Okeer was most likely to be. All were quick to scramble behind afforded cover, weapons out, alert.

They were greeted not by a hail of bullets but by a voice over a loudspeaker.

"_There is only one measure of success: kill or be killed! Perfection is your goal,_" the loudspeaker blared.

"The hell kind of training compound is this," Jorge muttered aloud, his machine gun at the ready.

"Doesn't matter," Shepard replied. "Stay focused. We're here for Okeer."

The place was a damn mess. Crates were haphazardly strewn about, metal plates buried in mud and dirt forming the floor on which they tread. They moved up silently and efficiently, Shepard and Jacob in the lead, Jorge just behind them, and Garrus hanging back with his rifle out to provide overwatch. They rounded a bend just as the loudspeakers flared back to life.

"_Being hired is merely the beginning. You must earn your place in the mighty army we are building!_"

Whoever this was, they were crazy. Jorge ignored them and continued forward.

The team moved up a set of metallic stairs breaking the mud and dirt before Shepard called for a halt just before a corner. Garrus trotted up, peaked around the corner quickly.

"Observation post. And ready for a fight it looks like," he reported quickly.

"Garrus, you stay here with your rifle. They shoot, we shoot back," Shepard ordered. A quick gesture and Jorge and Jacob fell in behind her, weapons held ready but not threatening.

They didn't even hear a verbal warning before mass accelerator fire peppered them. Jacob covered himself in a biotic barrier, Jorge fired from the hip at one of the three Blue Suns on his side, and Shepard… suddenly wasn't there anymore.

Jorge hadn't really been looking, so he didn't see anything more than a blue biotic flare, a streak of blue, and then there was a distinct Shepard-shaped absence from the team. She was, quite suddenly, up on the slightly raised platform of the observation post, her shotgun firing at a mercenary that looked to have been blasted backwards, point blank.

Biotic charge. He'd read about it, but damn, it was something else to see it in person.

The Blue Suns merc she had targeted didn't stand a chance. Neither did the one that dumbly stood out in the open when he turned his new machine gun on the man. The final merc developed a sudden hole in his helmet and slumped bonelessly to the ground.

Done in under five seconds. Felt good to be back working with Shepard and Garrus, working together like a well oiled machine.

"Good to have you at my side again, Jorge," Shepard said.

"What, no love for me?" Garrus said as he jogged up. Shepard just rolled her eyes.

"Good to have you covering my six again, Garrus," she said good naturedly as Jacob joined them on the observation platform. "Now, let's see if we can get some intel…"

A merc, heavily wounded, was just down beyond the observation post, on the ground, blood coating his armor. It looked worse than it was, but he was likely in shock, and was utterly unfocused on anything except how 'bad' he was hurt.

"I knew it wasn't berserkers. Not at range. You're mercs. Or Alliance. I'm not…. I'm not telling you anything!"

Jorge took a step forward, but Shepard waved him back with one hand while her omni flared on the other.

"Shame. I've got a shot of medigel all ready. But if you'd rather I kept walking ..."

"Son of a… I don't know anything, I just shoot the overflow from the labs…"

Jorge listened as the merc laid out the basic scenario. How Jedore, a Blue Suns commander, had hired Okeer to make her an army, but that the krogan he had created were insane and were instead used as live target practice. An incredibly stupid practice in his opinion; using krogan as target practice was like putting yourself in a cage with a hungry varren every day, sooner or later you were going to lose.

After pumping the merc for information of defenses, and having the guard mislead his superiors to cover their presence, Shepard sent him off with an admonishment that his wound really wasn't that bad, and that it would probably be best to find a new line of work. The man limped off, cursing, but didn't get on the radio or impede them in any way. Jorge saw Garrus' trigger finger twitching.

There were more mercs in blue armor around the corner. More shouted propaganda over loudspeakers. But the squad blazed through them. Even when they pulled out the micro-missile launchers, Jorge would suppress, Garrus would take down the longer-range targets, and Shepard and Jacob would handle the closer range targets.

If this was the kind of army Jedore was training it would be taken out by the first semi-trained colony militia they ran across.

Dead krogan were scattered around their path, but the team did not see any live ones until they came upon a lone hump-backed figure fighting like mad against several mercenaries in their path. It was utterly fearless, standing alone away from cover, attempting to use a shotgun to knock targets off a balcony outside the standard range, a useless endeavor. Maybe it was crazy, like the mercs all thought. Either way, when the team engaged the mercs, the krogan didn't flinch, or even acknowledge them. Only when the mercs were dead did he turn.

Jorge, Garrus and Jacob all pointed their weapons as the krogan approached, but Shepard didn't- she held her shotgun loosely in front of her, pointed in a safe direction, and motioned for them to hold fire. When the krogan stopped, posture non-threatening, Jacob let his gun go to rest. Garrus shot Jorge a look before doing the same; Jorge dropped his machine gun to a one armed dangle, but stepped subtly closer- close enough to prevent the krogan from bringing his weapons up.

"You…. are different," it said. Covered in heavy plates with no detectable barrier and a full face helmet with glowing eyes, a voice modulated by speakers to get out of the suit, the krogan sounded almost more like a volus than a krogan.

"New," it continued, hesitantly. It rolled words around like it was trying them out for the first time, speaking for the first time. "You don't smell like this world. Seven night cycles, and I have felt only the need to kill. But you… something makes me speak."

"A week old, already full grown and ready to kill," Jorge said aloud. The krogan looked at him, stared as Shepard postulated about what they were doing in the breeding program. The krogan shook his head at that word.

"Bred… to kill. No. I kill because my blood and bone tell me to. But it's not why I was flushed from glass mother. Survival is what I hear in my head. Against the enemy that threatens all of my kind. But I failed even before waking. That is what the voice in the water said. That is why I wait here."

Jorge tuned out the conversation as he kept watch, on both the krogan, and on the remains of the gutted ships around them for Blue Suns. Even so, it was interesting to hear the experiences of a lab grown genetic experiment. It was a simple creature. That would explain why it stood out in the open and took fire.

"You wish me to show you the… glass mother. She is up. Past the broken parts. I will show you," the krogan concluded.

It strode purposefully away, towards one of the walls, limbering up, before grabbing a plate of quarter inch blast steel taller than it was, heaving it up, then throwing it out of the way.

"Glad he's on our side," Jacob said aloud.

Garrus just smirked. "We have a Jorge."

"This is the way to glass mother. You fleshy things are slow when metal is in your way," the tank bred krogan told them, gesturing to the path.

"You could come with us, you know," Shepard said. "See Okeer, tank-mother again."

"No. I am waiting. The voice told me. If they come, I fight. But I will not run, and I will not follow. I am not perfect, but I have purpose. I must wait until called. Released."

Not so mindless after all. And loyal enough to follow his chosen father figure to the death following his orders. Jorge stared a moment longer after the krogan, trying to decide if it was admirable or alarming what it was doing. He settled for putting the matter behind him, literally and figuratively. Shepard took point as the newly opened passage headed down, into the bowels of a wreck, everything covered in dirt and mud even down here.

"They're loose! Run for your damn life! They're all free!" came a panicked cry from up ahead. A Blue Sun rounded the corner to find four weapons staring him in the face. Shepard's shotgun barked an instant later, just as another came around the corner and began to fire at them even as he charged towards them. His firing was haphazard; Garrus' assault rifle fire was not, and he dropped quickly.

It wasn't long after that that they met their first live, hostile krogan. Standing on a ledge pathway, the krogan looked kitted out identical to the krogan they had talked to- heavily armored head to toe, full helmet, shotgun, but no shields. This one did not hesitate to open fire on them, and strode purposefully forward towards them.

Everyone opened fire, and Jorge's gun was quick to make its impact as the krogan stopped moving forward, then collapsed a few seconds later, numerous holes in its armor.

That set the tone for the next engagements as Jedore ranted over the loudspeakers about an unauthorized krogan release; a krogan would walk, or jog, or run, towards them, and would last until Jorge turned his attention to them, at which point they would go down. Hard. A few fired carnage shots from their guns; Shepard dodged one by charging said krogan and staggering it before finishing it with a few shotgun blasts to the gut, while Jorge tanked another without his shields even going down. The catwalks they were on made the dumb krogan like fish in a barrel, but there were enough streaming towards him that Jorge had to pulse his fire by the end of the engagement to not overheat. Once the coast was clear, he flicked the discharge button and four used thermal sinks clattered to the ground; the gun whirred as they were replaced.

The Blue Suns were panicking, and it wasn't hard to see why. Dead mercs littered the hallways as they began to climb, and frantic communications made it clear that even the micromissile armed mercs were not doing well. Between Shepard's team and the waves of krogan, the Blue Suns were folding.

It wasn't a cakewalk, but the frantic, two to three merc trickle wasn't much of a challenge for Jorge, nor the rest of the team. Garrus and his sniper cut through mercenaries left and right, a single hole through each helmet, his face hard and inscrutable. Jacob fought like the seasoned soldier he was, perhaps a bit cautiously, but then, he had never been a part of Shepard's team on the original _Normandy_. And Shepard…

Whether she was the real deal, or a clone, or a puppet, or whatever, her combat skills had not suffered. Even with the biotics. Heck, they were even faster now; the slow unstoppable tide had changed to a wave of speed, a furious assault by which she would charge into the enemy formation and cause havoc while the other three picked off the remaining mercs as they advanced quickly to her position. Then it would repeat, the engagement beginning with Shepard charging towards the enemy while the rest of the team supported her and cleaned up.

It was highly effective, and fast too. The mercs knew it as well- their comms were filled with frantic efforts to stop them, but all it did was hasten them to their graves. No sooner would the mercs arrive then they would already be under attack by a furious Vanguard with a shotgun, suppressed by a machine gun, plucked out of cover by a lift then headshotted by a sniper. It was a slaughter. And not even Jedore's shouting fury about how they couldn't even take care of three people and a junky mech changed anything.

Then, quite suddenly, the action stopped, and they were in a waiting room with a smartly dressed asari crouching behind what little cover there was.

"Shepard don't shoot," she said as she stood. "You know me."

Beneath his helmet, Jorge raised an eyebrow, but followed Shepard's lead as she set her weapon to a ready position.

"I shut down the security feeds as soon as I saw it was you," the asari said. "Never thought I'd say this but I'm glad it's you shooting up the place. Sorry, Rana Thanoptis. You let me go when you destroyed Sarens lab on Virmire. Had to outrun a nuke in a utility pod, but it's still a second chance."

"I remember you. I assume there's a good reason why you're using your second chance here?" Shepard replied warily.

"Don't worry, I'm not wasting the chance you gave me. My work here- strictly beneficial. Not for the mercs. Jedore is on a standard power trip. But Okeer is trying to do something good. Even if his methods are a bit… Extreme."

Her eyes, and everyone else's, were drawn to the skeleton lying on a nearby table. A human skeleton.

"Everyone deserves a second chance, right? And sometimes giving one pays off. I take care of my debts," Rana said decisively. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get out of here, before you blow up the facility again-"

Rana had started forward, looking to move around the team, but Shepard stopped her with a left hand on her chest.

"Hold up. What's Okeer doing here?" Shepard asked.

"It's complicated," Rana replied. Jorge watched Shepard reach for her pistol, Rana's vision blocked by the left side of her body and the eye contact that Shepard made. She suspected nothing. "Jedore wants a private army. Okeer mostly ignores her. He's running the project for his own reasons. I created a mental imprint routine to educate his tank bred. Most don't get through it, he dumps them for some reason. He wants to help his people but he's not looking for a genophage cure and he's not going for numbers. That's all I know."

"Thank you, Rana," Shepard nodded. Then she quite calmly brought the Carnifex up to the asari's temple and shot her.

The asari collapsed bonelessly to the floor, a hole through her skull. With her back to him, Jorge couldn't see her expression.

Jacob voiced his shock. "I don't think that was necessary, Commander. She was unarmed, a civilian…!"

"No third chances," Garrus said quietly. Shepard stowed her pistol, then nodded at Garrus' words.

Jorge, beneath his helmet, merely cocked an eyebrow.

"I encountered her on Virmire, doing work for Saren breeding an army of krogan and studying the effects of indoctrination. Starting with her own predecessor, the former head scientist that had succumbed to indoctrination. I let her go. Gave her a second chance. Even if I didn't think she'd survive the nuke on Virmire. Now I find her here, with a merc company, and another army of krogran, doing questionable experiments on humans and vat grown krogran. She had her second chance, and she spent it doing similar but different questionable activities. I don't trust her enough to give her a third chance," Shepard replied. With that she turned and marched towards the door to the next room. Without looking back once at her team.

Jorge followed without question, without emotion, externally. Inside his helmet, he frowned as Shepard approached an old krogan who immediately set to lambasting her for taking so long to get to him. Would Shepard, the real Shepard, really do such a thing? Rana was unarmed, a civilian, a non-combatant even in a situation where she should have been armed. She was a compassionate woman, who believed everyone should get a second chance, with no exception that he had yet to know. Was Rana somehow a threat to Cerberus, and Cerberus had ordered her terminated and used this clone, or a control implant chip, to do so? Is that why Shepard did not turn around and tell the team her reasoning to their face?

But, he knew Shepard had a ruthless streak as well. She'd threatened to take him and destroy her entire former gang if they crossed her again. And she had given Rana a second chance already, Garrus had confirmed it, so was this merely a judgement that a third chance should not be given, as Garrus suggested? Was the reason that she had not turned around and delivered her judgement to her squad shame, or regret, that she did not wish her team to see?

"_Attention!_" the voice of Jedore blared over the speakers. "_I have traced the krogran release. Okeer, of course._"

The old krogan warlord stomped over to the window, where, thanks to his height, Jorge was able to see down in the bay below where a woman in Blue Suns armor was talking over comms.

"_I'm calling 'blank slate' on this project. Gas these commandos and start over from Okeer's data. Flush the tanks!_" the speakers called out.

Pressure valves opened behind them, preparing to vent the tanks strewn around the area. Okeer, however, was most concerned when the tank holding his 'perfect krogran' began venting in preparation for the flush.

"She's that weak willed? She'll kill my legacy with a damned valve!" Okeer cursed. He turned to the team. "Shepard! You want information on the Collectors. Stop her. She'll try to access the contaminants in the storage bay. Do this for me, and I will join you."

"Why save this tank? Why not just start over, like she plans to?" Shepard asked.

"This tank is pure. It involved as much trial as data. Starting over will not duplicate it. It must survive," Okeer replied, turning back to the tank. "Jedore will be with the rejected tanks. Kill her. I will.. Stay. And do what must be done."

"Commander, she's got some heavy mechs down there as well," Jorge said, his height giving him vantage enough to see into the bay below.

"We'll need all of us then. Form up, let's move!" Shepard replied. Her shotgun unfolded as she led the way to the door to the stairs at a brisk pace, the team following after as they readied themselves. It was a quick jaunt down a set of ramps, then Shepard motioned Jorge to take the lead going through the door into the room Jedore was in. She hit the button, and Jorge swung into the room just after Jedore's voice came through the speakers again.

"_I don't care who they are, I want them dead! This is my world! I'll poison them all!_"

Definitely someone with massive delusions of grandeur. Soon to be dead.

Jorge moved in and swung the gun right, towards Jedore, and opened fire. Jedore started ranting at them, now shouting across the bay instead of the loudspeakers, and pulled a portable missile launcher, similar to the one Shepard had, off her back, and fired back. Jorge kept moving and the missile missed.

The room itself was strewn with cover, in the form of the hulking krogran growth tanks, as well as debris, crates, and consoles from the dead ship. The tanks were arranged in two rows, facing each other, with corridors around the outside and right down the middle. Jedore was behind the opposite row of tanks as the team took up positions behind their own row, dodging the missiles and curses sent their way.

Then the tanks began to flush, in sequence, and everything got more complicated as newly-born krogan, with weapons already in hand and covered in armor, began to charge their position. It almost made the activation of the heavy mech behind Jedore an afterthought. Almost.

Jorge turned his attention to one krogran across from him and lit it up. They were tough, though, and before Jorge could do enough damage to put it down for good he had to dodge a missile from Jedore. Garrus kindly cleaned up the krogran with an assault rifle burst to the krogan's head, and Jorge turned his gun onto another krogran that Jacob and Shepard were already pouring fire into. They would have finished it off by themselves, but Jorge's gun hurried it along.

Then the mech entered the fray.

The YMIR heavy mech, made by the Hahne-Kedar corporation, was designed for an anti-infantry role. Equipped with dual mass accelerators on one arm, and a rocket launcher on the other, it was armed enough to make mincemeat out of even hardened infantry; and standing 3 meters tall when fully extended, covered in bone-white light vehicle grade armor, with powerful kinetic barriers it was hardened against infantry scale weaponry short of dedicated heavy weapons. It was large, and relatively slow, but moved purposefully as its VI dictated, programmed to destroy any infantry sized target it found in its path. Jorge had faced a few before, as it had become very popular over the last two years, used by mercs and others as infantry deterrence, so he knew just how tough it could be… or how vulnerable, in the right areas. Or in the right situations.

It opened up on Jorge, a withering hail of fire. The fire rate of the dual mass accelerators beat his own, and Jorge knew from experience that as good as his shields were, they wouldn't stand up to it very long, so he took a hurried step and ducked behind a clone tank. Intent on suppressing him, the mech stomped forward as it continued to fire at the tank he was hiding behind, even as Shepard and Garrus opened fire on the mech.

That was the real key to dealing with YMIRs; have a team. Jorge could play tag with the mech, waiting for the mass accelerators to go into cooldown, dodging the missiles it would throw with the other limb, but the easiest method of taking care of the mech was to have someone else shooting it while it was focused on you. They were pretty dumb, their minds limited to the VI logic they were slaved to, so teammates could hammer it without fear while its tiny mind was focused on taking down the primary target.

It was going to take a while with Shepard's shotgun and Garrus' rifle though. Even with Jacob's shotgun added to the mix, the YMIR's shields held as it stomped forward. Jorge waited for the opportune moment.

That moment came when the YMIR stopped moving, stopped firing, cocked its missile launcher laden arm, and loosed a missile at the empty krogan cloning tube he was hiding behind. The tube was tough, made to hold a krogan after all, but even so, Jorge saw enough cracks in the material that he knew it would be time to change cover. Still, with its programming cycle complete, the YMIR reverted back to the beginning: select a target. Given that Jorge remained behind the tube, the YMIR selected the nearest person who was shotgunning it, who happened to be Shepard, finished venting the dual mass accelerators, then stomped forward and resumed firing, this time at Shepard.

Shepard ducked behind the cover of a different krogan tube, ordered Jacob to scatter, then tasked Garrus with suppressing Jedore after a micromissile narrowly missed Jacob as he was moving. Just as Jorge stepped out of cover and lit the mech up with fire of his own.

With shields already partially depleted by the rest of the team's fire, the YMIR barrier held for only a few seconds before sparking and collapsing. It took no mind as Jorge's mass accelerator fire began to tear into its armor. Jorge shifted fire to its head, one of the weakest and most vulnerable points. His new gun, he still needed to name it, was more accurate than his old, and while he did not have it linked to his HUD he could still predict fairly well where it was shooting, more so at a range of less than thirty meters. The shots sparked up the armor to the head, which took seven bullets hitting out of the fourteen fired at it to the 'head' before the fifteenth penetrated the compromised armor.

The mech went limp as the head jerked to the side, before slumping, dual mass accelerators still firing. It attempted to reboot itself, but Shepard swung around cover and blasted it with her shotgun; at her distance, multiple pellets struck the head and damn near blasted it off. The YMIR reared back now, arcs of electricity sparking between the heavy armor…

The YMIR exploded with the force of a small bomb, staggering Jorge and Shepard both. That was the easiest way to destroy a YMIR; use a team, and hit the head hard. No need to waste time reducing the mech to a bullet riddled sparking mass when a few well placed shots could cause a power core overload that will blow it apart for you.

A krogan charged out of the smoke from the YMIR detonation, crazed bloodlust in its eyes as it charged the small woman. Jedore also screamed in rage and sent a micromissile hurtling towards the staggered Commander.

Jorge charged towards her, she could take the krogan or the missile, but not both. He could take the krogan. But, even as he blurred forward faster than any man his size had a right to move, Shepard proved him wrong. Ebon energies curled around her and she was suddenly not in front of the krogan anymore; even his enhanced eyesight tracked her only as a blue blur between microseconds as Shepard Charged at Jedore, knocking the woman back.

The krogan was confused by the sudden disappearance of his target, but was just as quick to see Jorge charging in. Jorge's shields deflected one shotgun blast before the krogan decided to forgo ejecting the heatsink and instead threw the gun down, bellowed, and charged towards Jorge.

Nearly seven hundred pounds of krogan in heavy armor is no laughing matter, for most. Then again, three quarters of a metric ton of human is a far more substantial mass. The krogan's helmeted head met Jorge's lowered, charging right EVA shoulderpad, and gave way to the oncoming freight train that was the Spartan. It skidded backwards unceremoniously, nearly end over end, but was still moving when Jorge turned his new gun on it at point blank range, pointed right at the chin. It stopped moving after a couple of seconds.

An alarm began whooping somewhere.

"_Shepard, lab alarms coincided with a systems failure. The remaining lab systems are unprotected, and I have gained limited access," _EDI informed the team.

A quick glance at Shepard saw her heading back, shotgun loosely held in her hands, a woman in Blue Suns armor dead behind her.

"_According to lab scanners, the room is flooded with toxins, and Okeer's personal life signs are failing rapidly. I recommend haste._"

"Szar," Jorge muttered in his helmet.

"Shit," Jacob echoed.

Shepard was running back across the bay now, and the rest of the team took that as their cue to head back to Okeer as well.

"EDI, can you vent the room?" Jorge asked over the comms.

"_I have already engaged contamination procedures_," she replied.

The loudspeakers began announcing an emergency vent as they reached the stairs that would take them to Okeer's lab.

"See if you can vent it faster!" he said as he bounded up the stairs. He was followed by Jacob and Garrus, and finally Shepard.

"Masks on!" Jorge shouted as he made it to the top. The door opened when he hit the holographic lock.

"_Masks are no longer necessary,"_ EDI intoned as Jorge rushed over to the collapsed krogan by the console. "_All toxins have been vented. Okeer's life signs are rapidly fading._"

"He's not going to make it," Jorge replied as he came to a stop over the old warlord. Okeer was collapsed bonelessly on the ground, foaming across his entire mouth, his eyes bloodshot and yellow. He coughed once, then once more, and was still.

The terminal Okeer had been working at flickered to life with a video log of Okeer as Shepard came over.

"_You gave me time, Shepard,"_ video Okeer said. "_If I knew why the Collectors wanted humans, I would tell you. But everything is in my prototype. My legacy is pure. This… one soldier, this… one… grunt… Perfect."_

Okeer succumbed to the poison just as the contamination procedure kicked in and vented the room, then cut off.

_Damn._ Now not only was a lead on the Collectors dead, but so was their recruit.

"Why would someone so fanatical sacrifice himself for one krogan?" Garrus asked, musing as he looked at the one krogan still in the tank.

"He seemed pretty convinced this thing was the validation of all his work," Jorge replied, dropping his gun and taking his helmet off with a hiss. "Must have believed it was worth his life."

"He could be useful on the team," Shepard mused.

"Or he could be uncontrollable like his brothers we fought," Jorge grunted.

"We won't know until he's out," Jacob said. "That's too late if there's a problem."

Shepard nodded, examining the huge tank, and the krogan already clad in armor inside. After a moment, she reached a decision.

"Normandy? Okeer is a no-go. But we have a package that needs retrieval. A big one."

-[]-

Got stumped by Mordin this chapter. Took a while before I came up with a way through him and his conversation. Sorry, but, well, I can't promise it won't happen again unfortunately.

Any suggestions on what to name Jorge's gun? Make sure the suggestion is in Hungarian.


	7. Chapter 5: The Perfect Krogan

Getting the clone tank aboard the shuttle took a bit of doing, but was easier than Jorge had initially expected. Okeer really had been prepared to bug out, the tank was mobile and motorized. Once a portable generator was in place to provide power to the tank systems, it was relatively easy to maneuver the tank through the doors, past Rana's body, and out to a decayed section open to the sky, where the shuttle was waiting to take them all back to the _Normandy_. The ground team secured the area while it was loaded on, but it wasn't really necessary; Okeer had triggered a total krogan release, and what remained of the Blue Suns had their hands more than full trying to survive. None seemed to care about the command area either; Jorge waited at the stairwell, but no krogan came up. The extraction went perfectly.

On the _Normandy_, it was a quick jaunt with the motorized krogan tank up the elevator to the port side cargo hold, where it would be kept until Shepard decided what she wanted to do with it. For the moment, everyone wound down from the battle. Jacob went to the briefing room, no doubt for the post action Cerberus report, and Jorge saw Miranda head that way as well, but Jorge and Garrus went other ways, Jorge to get some food and fluids, Garrus down the hall to the main guns.

What would Shepard do? Open the tank and let out the krogan, hoping it could be reasoned with? Or space it, and Okeer's hope with it? Or would she turn it over to Cerberus for dissection? The middle was safest but also most unhelpful, Okeer had claimed his creation had all the information, spacing it would remove that possible source of information. Handing it over to Cerberus might get them the information eventually, but that was handing Cerberus a 'perfect krogan' template, and there was no guarantee they would get the information they needed. Waking the krogan was obviously the most risky, as they had no idea how cooperative it might be, and could end up with someone on the ship dead. But it would also potentially net them a new member of the squad, assuming it could keep up with them, and they would be able to question it at their leisure, directly, without depending on Cerberus.

He figured Shepard would take the first. But would it really be telling if she found the risks too great and went with a different option? Would that reflect a Shepard that was not really Shepard?

"_Lieutenant Kadar_," EDI's terminal in the room lit up. "_Commander Shepard requests your presence at the port cargo hold_."

The cargo hold with the krogan. Jorge rolled his neck, hearing a few pops.

"On my way."

Made sense. With his armor on, he could handle a krogan, so long as it wasn't biotic.

Please let it not be biotic.

He found Shepard deep in thought standing outside the door to the cargo hold, waiting for him. He quietly approached before falling to a rest position.

"Thoughts?" she asked without turning to see him.

"This could go badly," Jorge replied quietly. "If he's anything like his brothers. We might have to put him down. But I can handle him."

"Your match with Wrex was pretty even."

"I'm in my armor now."

"So you are," she replied. Her hand reached out, hitting the haptic and unlocking the port cargo hold. Jorge followed her in.

The tank was near the back by the work table, the area a mirror of his own on the starboard side but for the trash compactor. Inside the krogan was unmoving, unresponsive, quite clearly visible through the glass front, suspended in some sort of fluid.

"EDI, can he see us?" Shepard asked, crossing her arms in front of the tank. "Is he awake?"

"_Unlikely. Current neural patterns indicate minimal cognition_," EDI replied.

"That'll change fast once the tank's open," Jorge grunted, crossing his arms. "His brothers came out in a blood rage."

"_Lieutenant Kadar is likely correct. All available literature suggests the subject will awaken in a fight or flight response. Given that the subject is krogan, the fight response is most probable._"

Shepard contemplated, then tilted her head.

"Anything else odd about him? Anything we should know?"

"_The subject is an exceptional example of the krogan species, with fully formed primary, secondary, and tertiary organs, where applicable. No defects of any kind, aside from the genetic markers of the genophage present in all krogan. His musculature is fully developed, and from Okeer's data appears to be exceptional in density, he will likely be stronger than other equivalently sized krogan. He is an exceptional physical specimen of his kind. His mental state, however, is unknown. Property damage upon his awakening is likely._"

"Jorge?" she asked, one last time. He knew what she was asking.

"I can handle him, at least long enough to put him down," Jorge replied confidently.

Shepard nodded. "Then we're opening the tank."

"_Cerberus protocol is very clear regarding untested alien technology,_" EDI intoned.

Shepard's face marred into a frown, showing off a lattice of thin yellow glowing scars across her face. Jorge swore he saw her eyes glow red, for just a heartbeat.

"This krogan is either an asset or a time bomb, and I want it resolved. Open the tank EDI. Now."

"_Very well Shepard. The controls are online. The switch- and consequences- are yours_."

Jorge snorted and prepared himself, shifting his center of mass just a bit lower, putting weight on the balls of his feet. Fighting with Wrex that one time had left him with strategies that worked, and some that didn't, and some that only thought of later that he wanted to try out…

Shepard stepped forward and hit a set of holographic buttons before stepping back. The tank hissed as the liquid began to drain, the krogan in full armor inside dropping as his weight was no longer supported by the nutrient fluid around him. His head cracked against the glass as he hit his knees, shattering a part of it just as the glass doors opened.

The krogan dropped to the ground and gave a huge cough, watery nutrient fluid coming out in a spray as it dripped from his armored form. Shepard stepped back fully, in a neutral position several feet away, waiting for the beast in front of them to recover.

He stood. Eyes focused. Mouth twitched. Shepard approached a single step, garnering his full attention.

The battle roar he let out was unmistakable, and the speed at which he started thundering towards Shepard was commendable for any creature, much less one that had been unconscious only seconds before. Still, as he thundered towards the small human female, something else blocked his path.

Jorge sidestepped in front of Shepard, getting his Mjolnir bulk in front of her unarmored form. The krogan lowered his plated head and sent a meaty hand grabbing forward, the other balling into a fist and pulling back in preparation for pulverizing whatever had gotten in his way-

It happened in between eyeblinks. Jorge met the charging krogan with his shoulderpad, stopping him cold. Then took both hands to the krogans side and slammed him headfirst into the wall, leaving an appreciable dent in the thin wall plating. As the krogan roared again and bucked to get Jorge off him, Jorge let him, allowing him out enough to spin him… Then grab one arm that was flailing around… then the other…

It was nearly impossible to kill a krogan from behind. The huge, watery, fatty hump was evolved to absorb crushing blows. A blade could pierce it, but had to be long enough to reach the brain through many inches of tissue, and had to be lucky enough to slip through or around the heavy spine that supported the skull, an extremely lucky hit. Hitting other organs was possible, if you were lucky enough to slip between ribs and other heavy duty bones, but piercing a liver or a heart wasn't quite a killing blow when the attackee had a second. Even in the age of the mass accelerator, prolonged shooting of a krogan in the back took longer to kill them than most thermal clips could withstand.

But… that hump was large. It prevented shoulder movement towards the rear. There was a large region up and down their backs that a lone krogan simply couldn't reach on their own. Couldn't get leverage over. Jorge had discovered this when fighting Wrex. The typical solution was to shake the opponent off, or crush him against something else, which had worked well enough when Jorge had been approximately the same weight.

Jorge was in Mjolnir. And, Jorge was tall. Meaning that Jorge was suddenly one the select few non-krogans that could reach around the hump and grab krogan arms, strong enough to hold them in place, and weighed enough that any krogan counterattack didn't throw him off.

And so it was that, seconds after the krogan charged at Shepard, he was held in front of her, weight far enough back that he could barely touch the floor, arms immobilized from behind by the Spartan. He fought. Hard. Kicked and scrabbled. Thrashed. But could do nothing more than slightly move the big man..

Shepard watched for a few moments.

"Do you think he's smart enough to speak?" she asked curiously. Jorge opened his mouth but the krogan beat him to it.

"I can speak, human! Let me go, I'll tear you apart!" he growled out, thrashing even harder. The fact that Jorge had to shift a bit to contain his struggles was a testament to this krogan's strength.

"That's not much incentive for me to tell him to let you go now, is it?" Shepard replied.

"Kill me or release me so I can kill you! Fight me!" the krogan demanded, partly to Shepard, partly over his shoulder at Jorge. Jorge raised a questioning eyebrow at Shepard. She shook her head subtly.

"Killing you would be a shame," Shepard said, stepping forward. "After all, if we kill you, you wouldn't be able to come along and fight the Collectors."

The thrashing stopped at that. Even from behind Jorge could feel his attention focus back on Shepard.

"Collectors. Insectoid. Stronger than they look but still weak, easy to break. They hide behind their technology. Reclusive. The imprints say they rarely come out beyond the Omega 4 relay. How can I fight them if they do not appear on the battlefield?"

"They've come out now. Abducting human colonies. This ship and its crew are going to find them, stop them, then travel through the Omega 4 relay and take them down. You want a fight? I can give it to you. But only if you agree to fight under _my_ command."

The krogan suddenly thrashed, giving his all in a momentous strain. It was not entirely easy for Jorge to keep him restrained. Just how strong was this krogan? But, the krogan stopped fairly quickly, relaxing, still tense but no longer straining against his bonds.

"Or what?"

"Or Jorge throws you off the ship. No fight. No Collectors. No honor or glory or anything. Just you and the hard vacuum."

The krogan twisted, trying to look behind him, but, well, krogan physiology doesn't exactly allow a krogan to look directly behind and above him, even with the wide-set eyes. He only tried for a few moments, then gave up.

"Fine," he growled out. "Now let me go!"

"You going to attack him?" Shepard asked, flicking a finger to Jorge.

"No," the krogan said in a rather half-hearted way.

"You going to attack anyone else?"

"Fine, no!"

Shepard's eyes flicked to Jorge. He raised an eyebrow, and she nodded. Jorge let go, and was quick to step around the suddenly unsupported krogran and back towards Shepard before he could regain his balance. He could see the krogan sizing him up, eyeing his unhelmeted head, the gears no doubt turning in his head to see if he was worth the fight.

"What's your name?" Shepard asked.

"Okeer never gave me one," he grunted. "I am trained. I know things. But a name intended for me was never among his words. Warlord, legacy, grunt… grunt. Grunt was among the last. It has no meaning in my mind. It'll do."

"Welcome to the crew, Grunt," Shepard said amiably. "You have armor already. Did the tank come with a weapon?"

"No."

"Then our first stop is the armory. Thank you for your assistance, Jorge," Shepard dismissed.

"You sure, Commander?" Jorge asked, uncertain. If the krogan decided to renege on his half-hearted promise, he could do a lot of damage to the ship or to the crew…

"I'm sure, Jorge," she replied, with a sharper tone than he was expecting.

Jorge snapped to attention and saluted as a way of apology before heading smartly out the door. He quickly got away to the central area, milling around on the excuse of getting a glass of water from Gardner, the ships' handyman and cook, and watched as Shepard led the newly christened Grunt into the elevator to the armory.

He shook his head.

"Let me guess," Garrus said from behind him at the table. "Shepard decided to open the tank and now we have a new krogan team member."

"No prize for guessing," Jorge grunted back, taking his water and leaning against the bulkhead near the table.

"Well, she is good at it," Garrus mused. "I mean, look at us on the first Normandy. A spec ops soldier, an officer and a soldier, sure, but then we had a pilgrimage quarian, a krogan mercenary, an asari scientist and a turian cop and she whipped us into a team. Now we've got two biotic terrorists, a turian vigilante, a supersoldier from another universe, and a retired STG genius scientist. A genetically engineered super-krogan is right in line for her."

Jorge grunted. Garrus was right. Shepard seemed to have a knack for picking up interesting and talented strays and somehow managing to integrate them into an impressive special ops team. Imagine what she could do with real soldiers.

"Always seems to work out for her, doesn't it?" he asked idly.

"You mean it hasn't bitten her on the ass yet," Jorge replied.

"Yes."

Jorge snorted. "Just might, this time. Shepard's got a way with people but an unstable krogan looking for a fight wouldn't be my choice for a potential team member."

The elevator opened, allowing a pale woman with jet black hair in a catsuit that she called armor with an annoyed expression out. She headed in a precise fashion towards her quarters.

"Hold that thought Garrus," Jorge said. He set his cup down, and with a few long strides intercepted the woman.

"Miss Lawson," he greeted, now standing between her and the XO quarters. She gave him an icy glare.

"Lieutenant Kadar," she said in a tight tone. "If you would excuse me, I have a report to write."

"This will only take a moment," Jorge replied in a polite tone. "Do you have time on your schedule, in, say, 16 hours? For an interview on Shepard?"

He specifically timed it so she had time to compile the report for this mission and send it to the Illusive Man (AIs were immensely helpful in paperwork, after all), yet prior to their next engagement- Jack, their next and last dossier for now, was apparently being held on the prison ship Purgatory. Getting to it was several jumps and a cruise, and Joker had sent out a ping to everyone that estimated it as 24 hours, minimum. Plenty of time.

"Yes," Lawson said through grit teeth.

"Thank you, ma'am," he replied. He pivoted on one foot, no longer blocking her path completely but still forcing her to walk a bit around his large figure. And watched as she walked past him in a controlled manner, opened her cabin, then disappeared inside.

Not all the crew deserved intimidation tactics. Not all the crew deserved his ire. He knew that now from the dossiers. They deserved a bit of a knocking around for joining a terrorist organization, sure… but putting the real snakes on the ship in their place was something he would be glad to do. And snakes didn't come much higher than the leader of the cell. Putting the screws to Miss Lawson might put her off balance, get him the information he needed… it might even be fun.

He wandered back to the table, where Garrus had watched the whole exchange without a word.

"So. Two biotic terrorists, a turian vigilante, a salarian STG genius, a supersoldier from another universe, and now a genetically engineered super-krogan. Next up, a superbiotic criminal. Helluva team. We'll see if Shepard is up to the task."

* * *

Urgh.

If you couldn't tell, this wasn't an easy chapter to write. Part of it is I was very nervous about how to introduce Grunt properly, yet also logically and have him motivated correctly. Getting it to a state I felt right about took a good amount of time thinking on my part. The rest of it though...

I've lost a bit of interest in writing overall. Part of it was the sabbatical I took, getting me out of the habit. Another part is that I am not a writer, I usually force myself to sit down and write something, and with life these days, well, that was a chore that I easily talked myself out of. A bit of it is losing some of my spark of interest in both Halo and Mass Effect. All combined, and, well...

Maybe publishing it will kick me in the behind to move on and write more on the subject. That is also why I started publishing the other story as well- that one has been partially written on my hard drive for four, five years now, and I decided after months of hiatus that I had to do _something_ to get back into writing. Maybe publishing these will break that stalemate.

Writing is hard.


End file.
